Saffron Trails
by Sitend
Summary: One month after the Fall of Beacon, two runaway hunters-in-training seek purpose as the aroma of nostalgia permeates the Grimm-infested frontier. But that's the thing about saffron trails. You'll remember them forever, but you'll never track them down. And they cost you everything.
1. Vol 1 Ch 1 - A Faint Trace

Heavy, cold rain shatters the needles of behemoth pines, sending them hurtling down dozens of feet to the ground. Jagged tree roots jut out of the forest dirt at unnatural geometric angles. Tonight, the ragged, orchard-colored air smells like copper, although at the rate things are going, it might reek of iron.

 _CRACK!_

A hookshot burrows its way through three solid inches of bark, creaking under the weight of two bodies that fly past. It shatters splinters as it makes its exit wound.

"He's still on us! Can't you go any faster?!"

"You know, it isn't easy lugging two-hundred pounds of man-baby and thirty pounds worth of toys! Could you at least _try_ to help?!"

"Ok, I'll think of something…"

A few moments of silence sit as wind whips them in the face.

"So, have you thought of anything yet?!"

"Yeah, take us straight into a tree!"

"If you want to die so badly, just let go of my legs!"

"No, for real! Just trust me!"

"Okay! Here goes everything," the rappelling figure screams, veering sharply into the nearest tree ahead of them.

In the span of roughly half a second, his hanging partner whips out a shotgun that fans out into a glowing green axe and brings it crashing through the wood in front of them. Following through to the end of the swing, the axe then flattens into a luminescent shield that he thrusts upwards with a sudden burst of unnatural inertia. Temporarily, the two of them and the rended tree above are suspended in the air before a steel cord shoots out of the debris and plucks them away.

"Did you get him?!"

"We'll find out in about half a-"

 _THUNK!_

"Uhh…"

"Can't you look behind us?!"

The thick chunk of tree plummets at terminal velocity, as if swatted out of the air by massive force.

"Yeah, so that didn't work."

 _CRASH!_

Taking a look himself, the swinging figure sees their shadowy pursuer just a couple trees back. In close pursuit, he spins around the wooden bodies by his hands, flinging himself forward effortlessly between their trunks.

"Ya think, Rig?!"

A whistling volley of stones narrowly miss the two, catching the grappler off guard. He misses his next shot as they fall several stories down in a pendulum motion. At the last second before impact, Rig digs his heel into the ground and the pushes the duo off with an invisible radius of rip-roaring velocity. As his partner lands a solid mark on a distant tree, Rig wretches at the sudden change of direction.

"Smart thinking weaponizing our dinner!"

"WHAT DINNER?!" Rig coughs.

Though the stalker draws near, the trees ahead grow noticeably denser, shaving precious seconds off of the grappler's reaction-time.

"Question. Do you prefer splinters or stitches?"

"Well, _technically_ -"

"Splinters it is!" the grappler whoops.

They slope back down, this time in a controlled motion. Or at least, as controlled as they could be while forearm-sized pine needles stab them from every direction. Their Auras flicker and zap all the way down until their feet reach the ground.

"And we stopped because-"

"Because we can't run away anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we literally can't get away from him."

"Oh. Ok, I'll stay behind and stall."

"I'll do recon as usual. Keep your Scroll on hand," the grappler orders as he zips upwards and out of sight.

"See, here's the thing, Spirit…" Rig mumbles, whipping his Scroll out and to his ear.

Their pursuer flies in from the canopy above and lands with perfectly silent grace right across from him.

The Scroll chat crackles on. "I may or may not have drained most of the battery playing that game again."

"You _what_?!" The voice very audibly screams on the other end.

"Might wanna make this quick."

"You can count on it," the pursuer interjects, advancing towards Rig.

"Uh, yeah, so-" _Click._ Rig swings the axe out from behind, "Might have an objection to that."

Spirit soars over the trees and under moonlight, clicking the hookshots on his wrists together as a small, translucent platform forms beneath his feet. His baggy sleeves roll down his arms as the hookshots transform into a sniper rifle while he smoothly balances into firing pose.

"I swear, I'm strangling you after this, Rig," he says, peering through the scope.

"Whatever gets your rocks off- assuming we make it out of this," Rig replies, narrowly dodging an air-piercing fist and somersaulting himself backwards with a gravity rush.

"Speaking of, DODGE! LEFT!"

Rig sidesteps from another volley of deadly pebbles. He presses forward as the rest of the small stones ping off the Aura-charged shield, coming close enough to switch it to axe mode and get a few swings in. The stalker simply dances around the violent blows.

"Hey, Rig? You remember that Grimm Behemoth we were after?"

"You mean that- stupidly- big one we ran into earlier?" Rig asks between heavy breaths and swings.

"Yeah, that one. I think it's safe to say it knows we're here."

The stalker places a hand on Rig's axe before he can lift it back up. The weapon tip smashes into the ground as if a lead suitcase was hung on it. Rig struggles against the effort as the green Aura charge phases out.

"Without Aura, it's just an oversized stick," the stalker says, a grin gleaming from his shadowed face.

" _With_ Aura, you're just a oversized d-"

"Get on the tree behind you!"

"Got it!" Rig roars, using a gravity rush to throw him and his heavy tool backward onto a branch.

A sniper shot rings in the air just before a bullet hits the dirt in front of the pursuer. In the half-second that the stalker spends dodging, Spirit swoops in to sweep Rig off.

"Ugh, why does it feel like I'm carrying two-hundred _tons_ of man-baby now," Spirit yells as they sail through the air.

"Keep talking like that and I promise I'll find a way to get heavier." Rig looks at his weapon as they slowly start to gain speed, "Whatever he did to my axe is wearing off."

"Great, because in about a minute, we'll need it!"

The hunched back of the Behemoth Grimm looms, spiky tendrils rising out from the living mountain like an artificial layer of treetops. Its skull is pock-marked with cracks and scars, and its horns larger than the pines at its hooves show signs of wear from combat with other gigantic horrors. Piercing red eyes like kilns stewing in hatred illuminate the path ahead.

"I'm throwing you on this thing! Make it mad for our pal back there!"

"Mad?! How?!"

"I don't know, you got any gut juice left?!"

Before Spirit can receive a response, Rig is flung into the air. With as much strength as he has left in both arms, he swings straight down onto the center of the Grimm's head. A crack forms on the abomination's skull as it sends a shrill cry throughout the forest. Rig stands up, reverting his axe into a shotgun and pointing it towards the fracture. The Grimm jerks its head to the right with enough speed to rustle the needles on trees nearby.

The scream from his Scroll alone paints the whole scenario for Spirit.

Spirit summons another airborne platform, twisting his ankle as he switches directions. He grimaces from the pain, but still hops off while changing his rifle back into hookshots. Rig points his shotgun towards the ground, charging up his Aura as he fires. The plan works as it keeps him suspended in the air, but fails to address the Grimm already cocking its head in a mad charge to impale.

Spirit still hasn't fired his hookshots.

"Rig!"

With the force of a raging comet, the stalker collides into the Behemoth's head. He smacks the both of his palms against the deformed bone, roaring as the Grimm drops forward from an invisible force. Two hooks glint under the moonlight over their heads, perforating a tree across. Spirit catapults himself soon after, grabbing Rig once more.

As he stands atop the struggling Behemoth, the stalker watches them disappear under rain and darkness.

 **-XX・XX-**

"Echo-echo _-echo_."

"Why are you doing that?"

"It's fun- _fun_ - _fun_."

"Shut up- _up_ - _up_."

"See-ee-e?"

" _Ugh_ ," Spirit whispers after a moldy droplet leaks plops onto his nose. " _Low voices from here on out, okay? That guy could still be following us_."

"Stalactypes are cool _-ool-ool_."

" _Types?_ "

"Yeah, you know, those things-" Rig says, flicking out his axe to point to the massive rock spear hanging above their heads.

" _OH MY-"_

"Don't worry, they've been there for at least a little longer than us. So we should be polite. How do you do- _oo_ - _oo_?"

Spirit winces, scooching a safe couple body-lengths away from his teammate and whinging quietly about his wounded ankle the whole way.

Rig frowns. "You sure you're okay?"

"I already told you," Spirit murmurs, turning towards their dimly glowing window into the rain outside, "I'm fine. My injuries from that mess aren't major."

"Right, right. That's not what I meant."

Silence makes the cave colder. Spirit sighs.

"Yeah, Rig. I'm just…" Spirit tries to hide the increasing strain in his voice, failing miserably. "Just a little tired is all."

"Ok, ok. If you need to take a nap that badly, you should have just said it, cranky," Rig blows a raspberry.

"I'm not cranky. In fact, I've never been this happy to see rain before."

"Oh come on, you don't like rain?"

"How do _you_ like rain?"

"I don't know, it's like refreshing and full of life and cozy and the sky's so cool when it's grey. You know, like when you want to fall asleep but being awake also feels just as right?"

"Huh, well ya learn something new every day. Didn't picture you as a rain person..." Spirit lets loose an errant cough into one of his droopy sleeves.

A few small streams of rain coagulate under the upper lip of the cave's moth, branching out into forks as they run deeper inside. Sometimes, a droplet lands on one of them. But they don't say anything.

"You think-" Rig starts. "That he's still after us?"

"Even if he's Faunus, the rain should wash away our trail." Spirit curls his tongue to aim a concentrated breath of steam out into the cold. "Get some rest. You deserve it more than I do."

"But you're not good."

"It's just a sprained ankle, not a raging headache. Between the two of us, you used far

more energy."

"If it was a headache, maybe we could do an emergency lobotomy, eh?" Rig says, motioning to his stalactype to no audience.

"I need a lot more than a lobotomy when I'm around you. Besides, I was just swinging around in that fight, but I know how much that gravity rush takes out of you."

"And making platforms mid-air doesn't?"

"Look. I'm trying to be nice here, so the least you can do is not wear us down with some stupid argument, alright? Sleep. You're more important than I am in this dynamic."

Rig shifts uncomfortably over on his side of the cave. He turns on his side, away from the cave entrance and Spirit.

"If you're tired, just wake me up, ok?"

"Okay. Thank you."

For the next few minutes, only the sound of cavewater and rain echoes throughout the cave. As soon as Rig starts to snore, Spirit falls on his rear, exhaling deeply. He unlatches his hookshots as he stares out at a mountain in the distance.

" _Yeah, I'm alright."_ Spirit rubs at his ankle, pulling his knees close to his chest. _"I'm alright."_

 **-XX・XX-**

"Duuuude, did you see that all-girl team? One of them- the one with the blonde hair was all like **bazinga** and _kerchow_!" Spirit bubbles, making arcing motions around his chest and backside. "Man, if I could just get my hands on a pair of those…"

The spires and cupolas of Beacon Academy frame an eager and youthful midday sun. Its rays beat down like a wardrum cheering on the spritely figures of future Hunters and Huntresses in training. The grounds are packed with murmurs and students, whichever proves more annoying, all kept safely under the watchful eye of the geartower.

"For sure dude, those arm cannons look like they pack a punch! She's so coool~"

"Yeah, that too," Spirit says.

Righam swallows a small green fruit whole, gulping painfully as it rolls down his throat. Realizing that no coughing fit can save him now, he flops onto the grass like a dejected puppet and stares at the sky, just processing reality.

"But seriously though," Spirit says. "Did you see them? I think the one with the red and black hair really likes me. She was smiling and everything too."

Righam rolls over and glances at Spirit. "I think she does that with everyone, Spirit."

"Not with eyes like those. They're screaming 'take me now,' Righam, I'm tellin' ya."

"Because they're silver?"

"... Sure."

"Didn't your parents raise you not to steal?"

"Righam, you worry me sometimes, you know that?"

"I already told you, just call me Rig."

"Rigly-wiggly Rig."

Rig squeals giddily as he tosses around on the grass.

"You're dang right!"

 **-XX・XX-**

"Aww, but I wanted to play some more with that Nora girl," Rig yelps.

"You're not taking this seriously at all. It's like you don't care," Spirit scolds.

Rig whimpers, unable to respond.

"Hey, isn't that a little much, Spirit?" Flora suggests.

"No. We're not getting much done and if we keep this up, our dynamic's going to fall apart!"

"I don't really think it's that serious…"

"Okay. Let me play this out for you." He presses the palms of his hands together in a prayer-like fashion, moving them down. "Grimm attack! Village is on fire, everybody's panicking so the Grimm are getting worse and worse. You know how fear and panic and all that good stuff brings them in like ants to a family picnic, right? Anyways, people are screaming and nobody knows what's going on. A kid holding a teddy-bear or whatever is standing around, crying his eyes out. Then, suddenly, BANG!"

Flora yelps as he jolts towards her with his last word. A crowd chock-full of curious faces has already formed around the trio.

"Water tower collapses! A literal ton of steel falling straight for the kid at terminal velocity. Kid ends up getting turned into a red pile of mush because I'm fifty feet in the air, you're trying to treat everyone with your herbs, Nima's busy running laps around the village to cover the perimeter, and _Rig_ is playing with dolls he found from a burning house! Now we all lose our licenses because nobody's gonna remember how I killed a bunch of Grimm dozens of yards before they could step into the village, or Flora saving a mother bleeding out in the streets, or Nima nearly breaking her legs. No, they'll only remember the lives lost. All because a _kid,_ who hasn't even gotten his Semblance yet, didn't put a lick of effort into our dynamic!"

"'Dynamic' this, 'dynamic' that." Stepping out of a crowd of bystanders and brandishing her spots, Nima butts in. "Spirit, will you just shut up already about our 'dynamic' or whatever you want to call it? Our team is fine. Everyone and their mother knows by now that you're just doing this to flex for every female in a fifty mile radius wherever you walk."

A wave of oofs and oohs echoes out from the crowd.

"Wha-?! How _dare_ you make such an accusation!" Spirit's face reddens. "Don't mistake my dedication to saving lives as just some sort of hormonal side-effect! Or are you just trying to cover the fact that while I'm busy standing my ground and killing Grimm, you'd be running off from the fight?"

Another uproar reverbs around. Nima narrows her eyes.

" _Excuse_ me? That's really cute coming from you."

"And those are some fierce words coming from someone whose best quality is chasing her own tail in circles. All I'd have to do is get on a platform fifteen feet in the air and it'll be leopard-hunting season all afternoon."

Nima closes the distance between them. "You think I can't jump a few yards up, coward?"

Spirit imitates her action. "I _know_ you can't, furball."

The crowd starts to chant, their escalating cheers gradually revealing their thirst for battle. Flora raises two shaky hands, stammering as she tries to approach her two teammates while they butt heads and grit their teeth.

"Stop!"

A cry cuts through the din, silencing them all.

"Guys, I'm not a kid, I get it. I'll try to try better. I'm sorry that I ruined your _dynamic_ ," Rig says tersely, then disappears into the crowd.

Nima glares at Spirit, pointing an accusatory finger towards his chest. "Look what you did to him!"

"What _I_ did?! If he gets anyone killed, you still gonna stand on your soapbox?" He turns towards Rig, who is still in earshot. "He did it to himself."

 **-XX・XX-**

"Somemthinmgn smells like a toast?" Rig mumbles.

The burnt breadcrumb trail starts to singe the inside of his nostrils, it almost smells like-

"Wait!" He screams, lunging out of of fetal position. "Something smells like _fire_!"

"Wha-whu?" Spirit mumbles as he wakes up. "Fire? Fire?!"

Rig frowns and crosses his arms. "If you were just gonna sleep anyways, we might as well could have started a cozy campfire."

"You said _fire_!" Spirit retorts.

"Oh, dude! Remember the village! And that cute girl we saw…- we have to save her!" Rig jumps upwards.

"Cute girl, huh? Since when were we doing it for the girls?" Spirit trails off, strapping his hookshots on his wrists, "Can't seem to remember."

 **-XX・XX-**


	2. Vol 1 Ch 2 - Guests Unwelcome

Smoke billows in from leering trees as the village finds itself encircled by skyscraper-sized living torches. The fire started early into the morning, but late enough that only the thatched roof homes are all but ash. Amid the panicked cries of women and children, partially masked by the roaring crackle of an inferno, blood-curling grunts and growls can be heard from both man and Grimm.

A poorly-armed farmer readies his pitch-fork, holding one hand on the shaft and the other at the base of the fork itself to keep it from rattling around and falling off.

 _SHWOOM._

Smoke rushes out of a hut to his right.

Blinded, he stumbles forward onto the ground, knees taking a resonating impact with a "crack". As he reels in pain, any and all thought is erased by a spine-chilling roar from behind. A proud Grimm bearing its jagged bone saw-mouth prepares to pounce. Turning over onto his back and scrambling away, the farmer catches a glimpse at the sky as a distant blur comes into view.

Sailing in at top speed, Spirit and Rig clear the canopy, which by now resembles a sea of flames.

"There!" Rig shouts, pointing to the few dozen huts and buildings in a clearing just up ahead.

"I see it- and it doesn't look good!" Spirit calls back over the sounds of accelerant breeze.

Their bird's eye view of the devastation provides no comfort as they momentarily hang in the air. As far as the eye can see in every direction, all the way up to a distant mountain ahead, the entire ancient forest basks in glowing fury. Eyes straining to catch the Grimm Behemoth, they instead spot numerous black shapes slithering between breaks in the trees below, all headed towards the settlement from all sides.

"That's- A lot of Grimm," Rig says as a mote of floating char hits him in the eye.

"And a lot of people about to lose their lives."

"How bad is it?"

"The more terrified they are, the more Grimm show up. It's a feedback loop."

"Let's get in there then!"

"Not so fast, Rig," Spirit says as they begin to lose upwards momentum. "We need to work things out before we charge in there."

Rig kicks both knees up to his chest to set off a gravity rush and keep them suspended for just a moment longer, "Do we _need_ a plan?"

"Stay close. We can't communicate our plans over long distances, since a certain _someone_ used up their Scroll's battery gawking at cartoon girls."

"But isn't that what _you_ do while you're alone?"

"Hey, the finer details aren't important right now!"

"Forget it! All that matters is that I'm the best Ear-Shot around!"

"Can you hit the broad side of a Grimm?"

"I'm not sure- but I've hunted barns before!"

" _Great!_ "

"That's the _Spirit_!"

Whistling down on their descent, a last-minute gravity rush stops them from a crash landing and leaves them smack dab between some hick and one pissed-off Grimm. Priming their weapons, the duo fans out around both sides of the beast, scissor-shotting it into shreds with each of their high-power barrels before Rig cleaves straight through with his axe.

Before the astonished, prone farmer behind them can utter a thanks, another Grimm crashes onto a nearby rooftop and rears its maw. Acting on instinct, Spirit changes to his sniper and backs off, grabbing the farmer by the scruff as Rig leaps onto the roof to dispatch the new arrival.

When his feet hit the tiles, however, both combatants plunge downwards in a singe-ing crash. Regaining his bearings in the dusty wreckage, Rig navigates his way by the pained howls of the Grimm impaled on a wooden beam to finish it off. His face is marred by soot and blood, mouth twitching and teeth bared. For a split second, his bright green eyes narrow, reflecting the fire.

Spirit hears a shotgun cock as he rounds a corner with his civilian, followed by an echoing bang.

" _Rig, don't waste your shells_ ," Spirit growls under his breath.

A few seconds later, a cheery Rig pops his head past the wall and moans, "Sorrryyy."

"Doesn't matter. I have a plan," Spirit motions upwards, "See that?"

"See what? I can't see anything, something's blocking my view!"

" _Exactly_! Now what does that look like to you?"

"Really inconvenient for sunbathers?"

"Well, uh… that. And the fact that it says 'water tower' in big, screaming bold letters."

Rig's face lights up, "We setting up a waterpark?"

 **"Splash** and _kerchow._ "

"Th-thank you," the bushy eyebrowed farmer interrupts.

"Trust me, you're gonna want to save your thanks for after we pull off this next stunt," Spirit says.

"Or not," Rig chirps, "Ya never know- we're not pros, after all!"

The villager goes slightly pale, "Wait. You two, are you… are you _not_ licensed Hunters?'

"Oops."

"Haha, he has a sick sense of humor you know!" Spirit grabs Rig by the arm, dragging him away. After they get out of earshot, he continues, "I'm shooting the supports off the tower in T-minus ten and you knock that bad boy into the air. Ready, Rig?!"

"When am I amn't?!" he hoots and runs off.

They position themselves accordingly- Spirit shoots off into the air and scopes in while Rig runs into the wide-open street below. As the airborne sniper zeroes in, one of the doors right across from Rig bursts open and a person runs out into the road.

"Rig?" a female voice calls out in surprise.

"You're that girl-"

Rig is interrupted by two subsequent shots and the sounds of screaming metal from above. The shadow of the massive steel structure swallows up everything around the two standing in the street.

Moving faster than he can think, Rig gravity rushes to shove the girl out of the way, then launches himself towards the falling tower. With one final push, he fluidly whips out his axe and shatters into the steel debris, bursting the whole thing. His now-unconscious body continues in an upwards arc as water rains down, dousing everything in a several hundred feet radius.

Before his body can crash into the soot-smeared dirt, the girl from earlier slides in and catches him. A couple seconds later, Spirit zips down to the ground, landing after a loop-de-loop between buildings. He jogs up to the other two and starts pointing angrily.

"Rig! What happened?!"

"Your friend here saved me," the girl answers for Spirit's unconscious partner.

"He wouldn't have had to 'save you' if you didn't get in the way! Have you lost your mind?!"

"If I didn't 'get in the way', he would have broken at least a few more bones!"

"And he wouldn't be unconscious, either!" Spirit glares back at Rig. "C'mon, Rig, get up!"

"I don't think he's getting up anytime soon. Looks like we're gonna have to fight through it, buddy," she says, and runs off with Rig under one arm.

"W-wait," Spirit yells and hookshots out to follow suit. "Tell me your name so we can communicate!"

"Kanoa Haheo, and don't you soon forget it!"

"Where are you running?"

"Here, to get my gear," she says, and ducks into a drenched concrete house.

Spirit summons a platform where the water tower once stood. Clicking his rifle together, he zeroes in on as many targets as possible. While the fire has subsided, Grimm still roam through the village's borders. Boarbatusks dash around the streets, charging through the wooden walls of homes, while a pack of Beowolves and Ursai form small circles around unarmed civilians.

Spirit's barrel whips left and right as he attempts dispatch as many as he can, but the precise shots of a sniper rifle aren't fast enough. Instead, he prioritizes by providing openings to as many trapped groups of people as possible, blasting the skulls off of each beast.

It's only delaying the inevitable.

"Hey!"

Kanoa returns outside with a mace in hand and no Rig.

"Where's Rig?"

"He's gonna be fine. I left him under a table in case the roof comes down."

"You WHAT?!"

"What, you don't trust that table? That thing's sturdier than grandpa, and he won our weightlifting competition at 108."

"Fine, whatever. I'll take point and-"

"I can do it very well on my own, thank you very much," Kanoa responds, flexing a toned bicep while test-swinging her mace with a shoulder windmill, "This is _my_ home-turf after all!"

She bolts off, leaving him behind with a growing feeling of anxiety. Spirit watches as Kanoa climbs atop a house before dropping down on one of the Beowolf trios. Her mace smashes into one of their skulls and she follows her swing into the head of a second. Electricity visibly ripples through the second Grimm's body.

Kanoa turns around just as the third Beowolf pounces towards her, sending a flurry of mace strikes before electrocuting it with her final blow. In unison, all three black bodies disintegrate around her.

"Guess I need to QA test this thing some more," She turns with a shrug as a few villagers cheer, "Or- I suppose if it's not a bug, it's a feature."

Spirit turns back to the rampaging Boarbatusks from earlier, shaking his head. He picks them off one by one, crashing them into the dirt as they dissolve into black flickers of their former selves. As he adjusts his aim, from the corner of his scope, he catches Kanoa moving between the houses and clearing the other pack of Ursai. Despite the height advantage he always took pride in, right now, she's faster and more efficient.

Kanoa can handle herself.

 **-XX・XX-**

"Thank you, traveller. This area has always been harassed by Grimm, but as of late, their presence has been at its worst in decades," The old man in front of Spirit slightly bows as he speaks, "Are there any supplies we can offer _before your departure_?"

Unlike the other villagers, the old man wears a long-sleeved silver robe that fully covers his arms. Though the bow feels a lot less cordial than it should be, Spirit returns the gesture.

"Well, to be honest, I'd really appreciate a place to sleep right about now."

The old man's smile fades. "A place to sleep?"

"Yeah. For my friend and I," He turns back to Kanoa's house as he hears her footsteps. "Speaking of which…"

After walking over to Kanoa, who is carrying Rig bridal-style, Spirit lightly slaps at one of his partner's cheeks.

"Rig. Rig, wake up."

"Hmhwha-?" Rig mumbles.

"Fight's over. Had a nice nap?"

"Mm… yeah. There was a girl with flowers and she-"

Rig pauses as he realizes his back is pressed against two arms instead of a cave floor. As his eyes widen, he trades looks with the girl carrying him. "...Did I get hitched while I was asleep?"

"Not exactly, lady-killer," Kanoa lowers him to the ground before turning back to her house. "Consider me carrying you as thanks for the water tower. Now if you excuse me, I need to fine-tune my gear."

"Are we still getting married? I mean you're strong and all, but-"

His comment is enough to make her immediately turn around and puff out her chest, drawing in a deep, excited breath.

"Well! I don't mean to toot my own horn or anything, but muscles aren't the only thing I can brag about! I've got a knack for anything that has a gear in it too, if you haven't seen it." Kanoa presses a small button on the side of her mace, popping a few sparks into the air. "But yeah, I'm pretty strong too."

"But not strong enough to get out of the way of our plan, clearly," Spirit tisks.

"I don't know what 'plan' you're talking about, but if it had anything to do with destroying our only water source, I'd really like to have thrown in my second opinion."

"And whose opinion might that be?"

She puts one hand on her hip. "A Huntresses'."

Spirit's face slightly pales. "Huntress?"

"Kanoa, that's enough of your fibbing." Despite the new sharpness in the old man's words, he quickly switches his expression to a softer one as he turns to Spirit and Rig. "My apologies. Kanoa is known to be… steadfast to her fairytales."

Kanoa glares at him. "Elder. Are you seriously trying to paint me as crazy right now?"

"Only until you cease your delusions and tinkerings. They will bring harm to the peace of our village."

"My inventions _saved_ us! And if it wasn't for these two passing by, half of our homes would have been burnt to the ground!"

A few whispers start to form from the crowd of villagers surrounding them. The Elder steps forward, speaking in a more hushed voice.

"You know of our _traditions_."

Kanoa's expression unwavers. "You're not making me change my mind, Elder. There's a lot more to the world that I want to see and I can only do it as a Huntress. I mean, they even get those cool licenses of theirs to show for it!"

A wide smile forms on her face as she looks to the two outsiders. "Isn't that right? Show 'em!"

Rig audibly gulps as he remains seated on the dirt. Spirit sighs before speaking.

"Yeah, so… about that-"

"What? Don't tell me you lost yours?"

"It's more like…" A nervous grin forms on Rig's face. "... we never _got_ them."

Some sighs come from the villagers at the revelation, before devolving back into panicked whispers. Now, the Elder's mouth fully shifts into a frown as he steps up.

"Leave. Now."

"What?! They helped us!" Kanoa protests.

"They are _criminals_ , Kanoa. They could have endangered the lives of every person living here with their recklessness."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Look," Spirit interjects, "We don't mean any trouble. If we're not welcome here, we'll just go. There's a cave nearby that we can stay in again, so we'll manage."

The crowd grows quiet. While some maintain expressions of concern, others reflect a more sympathetic look in their eyes. Kanoa turns to the two fake Hunters.

"You two were the same guys that got rejected yesterday from entering our village, right?"

"Yeah, they turned us away at the gate-" Spirit starts explaining.

"Ooh- _That's_ where I remember you from- we talked about how you-" Rig pipes in, pointing to Kanoa.

"And yet you still risked your lives for us," she continues, speaking right over him. Kanoa points at the two as she glares back at the Elder, " _This_ is really how you're gonna repay them, especially while they're injured?"

Some more murmurs from the crowd makes the Elder gaze around. His jaw tightens.

"They get one night."

And with that, he storms off, passing through the opening the villagers form for him. Kanoa rolls her eyes.

"Ugh. Sorry you had to see that, guys. Is there anything I can do for you while you're here?"

"A bath would be a pretty swell place to start," Spirit says.

 **-XX・XX-**

"That farmer's eyebrows were so fluffy, I thought he had two sheep covering his eyes," Rig says.

"Um... yeah, I suppose," Spirit replies.

An aquamarine hot spring sits nestled into a small quarry at the far end of the village by the treeline. From the inside of a quaint wood lodge, snaking clouds escape, pushing their way up to colder air and hissing. Misty droplets cling to the heads of the only two occupants.

"So did you _mean_ to guilt trip them back there or-" Rig says.

"For the record, that was totally unintentional," Spirit replies. "I was more worried about the landmines we were going to step on between that girl and the old man."

"Ka-BOOM!"

Rig splashes the water around him with both hands while Spirit covers his face.

"Rig, cut it out! You-ACK!" Spirit sticks his tongue out, "Some of it got into my mouth!"

"You're allergic to hot water now?"

"Mixed with a half a week's worth of filth, yes!" Spirit waves his hand in defeat. "Ahh, forget it. Should just be glad we even get to bathe in the first place."

"That's the Spir-!"

"Rig, I'm going to drown you if you make that joke again."

"Out of all the times you've threatened me, death by hotsprings is definitely the most relaxing offer!"

As Rig starts to hum to himself, Spirit gazes at the ceiling. The sniper leans his back against the rocky barrier behind him.

"Hey," Spirit says after a few minutes of silence. "Don't you think it's strange?"

"What is?"

"This whole place, I mean. There wasn't supposed to be a village here on any of the maps I've seen of this part of Vale." Spirit narrows his eyes, "Actually, didn't Nima herself have a hard time pointing out where she lived when we asked her?"

"Eh. That map you gave her was old anyways."

"But so is this village. It's been standing for 'decades' apparently and that doesn't explain why these guys have zero idea about what happened at Beacon a month ago. I'm not getting any signals out here on my Scroll, too."

"Maybe they don't want to get out of their shells?"

"It just doesn't make sense though. Why wouldn't you want to work with the rest of the world, while the Grimm are shredding anything that talks? Any way you see it, they're willfully endangering themselves through hiding in their shells."

"Well, turtle shells are really good for protection too, right?"

Spirit's mouth hangs as he stares off in thought. He turns around, placing his arms over the rocks behind him.

"I'm starting to not like this place," Spirit whispers.

"What? Why?" Rig says, lowering his head into the water.

"I don't really know. But I'm not even sure I want to."

The silence feels more eerie this time around. Rig grins, using both his arms to splash as much water as humanly possible onto Spirit's back.

"Alright, that's it! You wanna go, Rig?! Let's freaking go!"

"Whoo!" Rig screams, then gravity rushes the two of them into the air.

"RIG, NO-!"

They take half the pool with them as they hit the ceiling of the lodge, then flop back into the water. Spirit floats on his back, a deadpan expression on his face.

"Of all the people I could have been mixed up with..."

"I know, right?! We're like, the perfect pair!"

 **-XX・XX-**


	3. Vol 1 Ch 3 - No Signal

"Here!" Rig yells, poking his finger straight through the paper map.

"Atlas?" Spirit raises an eyebrow. "I honestly wouldn't have guessed in a million years."

"Yuh-huh. To be exact- right here actually-" Rig adds, ripping an arc clean across the entire continent. "Oops."

"Rig! No!" Spirit screams as he grabs the two pieces from him. "That was the last one in stock!"

"It's ok. We can always just buy more, right?"

" _No_ , we can't!"

"What's the big deal? It's just a map," Nima interrupts.

"Where I'm from, we don't just 'waste' stuff like that," Spirit argues.

"What's there to waste? Isn't Vacuo just desert and badlands?"

"You... that's-" he sputters.

"Why don't you tell us where you're from, Nima?" Flora asks.

"Oh, why not," Nima hops off the table she was sitting on. She circles the lower-middle of Sanus. "My place was somewhere around here."

Flora's face lights up, "Oh, that's not too far from where I grew up! My city's just on the coast a bit away-"

"'Somewhere'?" Spirit scoffs over Flora, his face still red. "What, did you get lost on your way here?"

"No, I didn't. It's just..." Nima averts her gaze to the ground. "Just lay off it, alright?"

"What's the big deal?" Spirit crosses his arms. "It's just a map, right?"

Nima narrows her eyes as she looks at him, causing his smirk to fade.

"I _said_ , lay off."

She storms past Spirit and out of the room. He stares at the wall in front of him as a storm of thoughts begin brewing in his head.

Rig coughs.

"So, uh, Flora? You said you were from _this_ place, right?"

Flora's long dress rustles as she shifts uncomfortably. With a striding start, Spirit marches out of the room.

"Yeah, I guess I can tell you about it," Spirit hears just as he closes the door behind him.

 **-XX・XX-**

" _TIMBERRRRR_!"

Spirit lifts his head as he hears Rig whooping. The little details of his surroundings slowly materialize, from the couch cushions beneath him, to the bookshelves against the smooth, stone walls, lined with covers ranging from fairytales to engineering. Sitting up on Kanoa's couch, he turns to the living room's sole window, catching a behemoth pine tumbling down out of the very corner of the view.

He rubs at his face.

"Riiig…"

" _EVEN BIGGERRR TIMBERRRR_!" Kanoa shouts over the din.

Another tree snaps from its base before hitting the ground. The sound gets muffled as Spirit buries his face into his lumpy pillow.

"Hey no fair-"

 **-XX・XX-**

"-you're not allowed to use electricity!" Rig protests.

"You're the one with an axe!" Kanoa laughs, felling another tree.

Rig grins, narrowing his eyes and sticking out the tip of his tongue. In one air-warping push, he gravity rushes through three trees in a row, his axe moving as a blurry neon stroke.

"I also have powers," he boasts, hands on his hips.

Kanoa leaps over his head, swinging her mace to deflect a leg-sized pine needle. She lands with a smirk, "Try not to kill yourself with 'em."

Rig blows a raspberry at her, "Fine, that's like what, you- one, me- more than that?"

"If I'm correct, it's 43-me, 42 you."

"Wait, are you counting the needle just now?"

"Maybe," she winks, then slings the axe over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go take a water break, no cheating."

Rig giggles as he shoves his axe head into the ground, "Cheating's for losers- _and_ Spirit."

Kanoa walks off in between the graveyard of stumps they created, tracing a finger over a few to feel their bark. Stepping over a few pieces of formerly water tower, she approaches her house. The walls are a plaster white, and the roof has shingles, unlike most of the other buildings neighboring it. Small, arched windows embed themselves with no sills across two stories.

Kanoa comes in through the door and enters the dusty square sitting room. Her warm-auburn hair sticks equally hotly to her white tanktop as she dodges out of a sunbeam and makes her way towards the living room at the back. Her hand brushes past the soft felt of a giant old sofa chair as she enters, setting eyes on Spirit's limp form laying on the couch.

"Hey Spirit," Kanoa greets him. "You're finally up."

"Cut me some slack. It's been a while since I slept on something soft. That, and taking a bath with Rig would probably leave anyone feeling more exhausted than refreshed."

"Uhh…"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't think I do," she snickers.

"Right," Spirit sighs, "Anyways, laughter and violent deforestation are the last things my migraine needs. What are you guys even doing out there?"

Kanoa reaches for the sink and hesitates, then pulls out a water keg from the cupboard below.

"Tree-chopping contest."

"... _Whyyyy?_ "

"Because you need trees for wood. And wood burns. Like half of my village did," she replies, deadpan.

Spirit freezes up.

"I'm just kidding, ya' know. Don't take things so seriously," she says with a shrug.

Spirit groggily watches her down most of the keg straight from the lip of the jug. She gulps a couple more times, noticing him staring, then stops.

"Want some?"

He recoils a little before surrendering to the dryness inside his mouth. "A little."

"Don't worry, I'll get you a cup."

"Yeah, that'd be better, thanks."

Kanoa pulls a small, clay mug out of her cupboard. After pouring the water, she places it within arm's reach of Spirit.

"There's something I wanted to ask you," he says as he grabs the cup, hands slightly shaking.

"Yeah?"

"You said you wanted to become a Huntress, right? Why not just go for it? You're pretty strong after all. You could've made it to Beacon on your own, Grimm infestation or not. Plus, it's not like there's much here for you."

"It's exactly because of the Grimm infestations that I can't go." Kanoa turns to the door of the house, which had been left ajar. "I stayed because even if I could be out there, they needed me more here. This is the kind of place so far out that if something breaks, it stays broken. That goes for people too. I couldn't just leave it."

"Even if they don't respect your wish to leave?"

"Don't get the wrong idea. They care. It's just that, they're more worried about disrespecting the Elder."

"'Worried,' huh?"

"What?"

Spirit swivels the water inside his cup, "Speaking from experience, I'm just thinking your village's problem is a lot more deep-rooted than you think."

A large crash rumbles from outside. Kanoa sticks her head out of a nearby window.

"Rig! I said, no cheating!"

"That was a house! I swear!" Rig's shout echoes back.

"A house?!"

Kanoa bolts out the door, with Spirit following suit. Outside, the walls of the ruined house where Rig squared off with a Grimm finally breathed their last, having toppled over and unceremoniously spilled out into the street. Upon a glance and realizing no one was injured, Kanoa exchanges relieved glances with a few villagers that had come outside.

Spirit walks up to her. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, nobody was inside when it came down, thankfully."

"That's a relief."

"I'm booored," Rig moans as he approaches, moving past idle townsfolk.

"You're not giving up, are you?" Kanoa teases.

"No, I just dropped by to check on my old buddy over here." Rig waves at Spirit, "Hey, how ya doing?"

"We should probably start to get going-"

"Excuse me, but," one villager with familiar eyebrows interjects as he looks at Rig, "you're the visitor chopping down trees with Kanoa, right?"

"Yup, the name's Rig."

"Well there, Rig, my family and I would appreciate some of the wood you're handing out as soon as possible. Otherwise, we're worried our house might end up like this one."

"Coming right up! Just give me a little break first before-"

"Nah, we're finishing this _now_ ," Kanoa smirks.

"Oh yeah?! You're on!" Rig eggs her on with a goofy grin. He faces Spirit again, "You were saying?"

"... Just don't take out the whole forest while you're at it, alright?"

"Uh, sure? Didn't think of ya as a nature lover, Spirit. Don't worry, we'll leave a few behind, right Kanoa?"

Rig turns back around, only to realize Kanoa is making a dash back to the forest.

"Hey! You said no cheating, Kanoa!"

"You got your break! Let's go," she yells back.

Rig swings his arms back, face beaming as he leaps with a gravity rush. Air whooshes behind him, blasting Spirit and the townsfolk with wind. The villagers disperse back to their usual routines, save for the one who approached Rig.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're travelling with Kanoa's friend, yes?"

"Unfortunately," Spirit replies, moving some of his dark hair away from his eyes. He finally recognizes the villager once his sight is clear of any obstacles. "Oh, you're the farmer from yesterday."

"That I am. And I thank you again for saving my life."

"It's fine, really," Spirit says, staring at the farmer's huge eyebrows, "Just part of the job. Or at least it would be if, you know, we… had licenses."

"That would have been a little more reassuring, yes," the farmer chuckles. He looks towards the forest with Spirit as they hear Rig and Kanoa hollering and hacking away at nature. "As for work, there should sometimes be a time for play, too. Why not join them?"

"I think I'd be a bit useless there. Rig's better suited for that sort of thing. My department would probably involve sitting on a watchtower and keeping guard." Spirit looks at the farmer. "Speaking of towers, it's a shame that the local transmission tower around here collapsed. Would've been useful to contact some real Hunters and Huntresses over the CCT to take care of things when we leave."

The farmer raises a bushy eyebrow. "CCT?"

"Yeah, you know? CCTS? Cross Continental Transmit System?"

The farmer's expression remains unchanged. Spirit's stomach knots a little.

"How… how far out are you guys, exactly?"

"Oh, you know. We keep to ourselves. In these times, villages isolating themselves is the safest way to go. With people though, not so much."

Spirit raises his head at the last line. "Are you trying to hint at something?"

The farmer raised a hand. "Let me put it this way. Gardens should be fenced off. But the seeds usually need someone else to care for them if they wish to grow."

Spirit remains silent. The farmer places his hand on his savior's shoulder.

"Consider that my way of repaying you."

And with that, he walks off. From the corner of his eye, Spirit sees Rig and Kanoa come shuffling back from the forest.

"Don't beat yourself up, Rig. Growing up around here means logging's as much part of my chores as doing the dishes."

"But I'm not good at doing dishes…" Rig mumbles, sounding genuinely dejected.

"Rig," Spirit sighs, "I'd _hate_ to nag, but we were only given one night."

"But our Scrolls aren't charged," Rig protests.

Spirit takes a deep breath, then turns to Kanoa, "I assume you won't be able to help us, but would you happen to have any Scroll chargers lying around here?"

Kanoa scratches her head, "Wait, hold up- are we talking about the same kind of _scroll_ here?"

"First the tower and now this-" Spirit shakes his head as his face scrunches up, "You people seriously don't know?"

He pulls out his Scroll and opens it. The screen lights up for a couple seconds, briefly showing a miniature radar with two dots right on top of each other before flickering out and dying.

"Oh, neat. So it's like a flashlight that only works for a second," Kanoa says.

Spirit's cheeks flush, "We just need to charge it. Could you see if there's anything around here that can generate power?"

Kanoa shrugs, "Guess I'll search the basement. I'll be just a sec."

She heads back into her house. Spirit pulls Rig off to the side.

"What did you two talk about while you were levelling half of the forest?"

"Oh, you know, just woodsman things. What, are you trying to get the scoop so you can hit on her?"

"I'm asking because she told me her village's traditions are holding her back from being a Huntress."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? She won't be coming after us anytime soon."

"That's not what I'm referring to, Rig. The people here don't like the outside."

"So?"

"So, it means they don't like _outsiders_ either. I'm saying that we should leave here as soon as possible because there's bound to be some folks that are getting antsy with us running around, cutting down trees and blowing up water towers."

"A little worry never killed anyone- plus, we're trying to help."

"Can you say the same about the Grimm? We'd be more helpful leaving sooner rather than later."

"But-"

Rig is interrupted as the two of them catch someone moving in the corner of their eyes. Kanoa comes back out of her house, lugging a rusty, cylindrical barrel with a fuel gauge on it. She walks up to them and drops it onto the ground with a crash.

"Hey-hey, watch it! Don't break it even more, we need that!" Spirit panics.

Kanoa puts her hands on her hips and looks down at it, "I don't think that's possible."

"What is it?" Rig butts in.

"This old thing looks to be a power generator, but without Dust fuel cells, it's about as good as the world's unwieldiest paperweight."

"How are we going to power it then?" Spirit asks, an eyebrow twitching.

Kanoa shrugs, "Idunno. Got any Dust?"

Rig's face lights up and he starts fumbling with a pouch hanging off his bandolier. His fingers grab onto something and he withdraws his hand, hoisting the found object into the air.

"Tadaa!" he says, showing off one of his shotgun shells.

The brass-colored base is topped with a transparent case, chock-full of sparkling orange powder. Kanoa reaches her hand out, but then Rig recoils.

With a downcast expression, he whimpers, "But, this is almost my last one…"

Kanoa motions to him with a curl of her fingers and Rig reluctantly complies, dropping the shell into her hand. She uncaps the generator, busts open the shell, and pours in the Dust. With an "Ahem," and a "Here goes nothing," Kanoa kickstarts the old thing.

It shakes violently, sputtering and coughing out black smoke before it stabilizes and the gauge starts ticking. Spirit hooks his Scroll up to the generator and after a few seconds, it lights up again.

"Huh. That actually worked," he murmurs.

"Good thinking, Rig," Kanoa says.

She pats him on the head, to which his eyes widen as if he's just seen the secrets of the universe.

Spirit thinks to himself for a second before groaning, "Even if we get our Scrolls charged, we won't have any signal."

"Well, I might happen to know a little something about that kind of stuff."

"Go on?"

Kanoa siddles up to the two of them and speaks in a quieter voice, "Once, when I was little, I built a ham radio, you know- like the bottlecap knob and steel wool mesh kind. Didn't get much of a chance to play around with it, cuz' it got lost in all the junk in my basement, but I think I might be able to make a new one."

"How long would that take?"

"A couple of hours, maybe? I'm not too keen on making one, though."

"What? Then why even offer to make a new one in the first place?"

"Because to be honest, I'm a little curious. I didn't really ever get to use it back then, but even still, I didn't tell anyone here I'd made one."

Spirit cocks his head, "Because of traditions?"

"Because I didn't want to bring shame to my grandfather."

"Isn't there any other way we can get a signal?" Rig intervenes.

"Well, I mean, there has to be a CCT tower around here," Spirit points to the sky over the forest horizon, "The spacing of the other towers we've been travelling by indicate there _has_ to be one nearby."

"Maybe we can use the radio as a transceiver," Rig figures, then motions his flat palms as if bouncing an invisible ball back and forth, "and - _ping-pong_ \- find the tower by bouncing a weak signal between the two. Plus, that way we won't have to give away the village's location."

Spirit and Kanoa stare at him for a second, speechless.

"Yeah," Kanoa says with a lip trill, "That, actually sounds like the best of both worlds."

"You up for the task?" Spirit asks.

"Yeah, guess I'll be back whenever I'm done. Where do you want to meet up?"

Rig opens his mouth to say something, but Spirit speaks over him, "Just outside of the village. Then, we head straight for the tower."

Kanoa shrugs, "Suit yourselves."

 **-XX・XX-**

Slowly but surely, the sun crawls down the increasingly orange sky as the dense tree cover around them starts to cast even longer shadows. Kanoa, Rig, and Spirit kick their way through underbrush as they march through the dense forest.

"Can I eat this one?" Rig asks, pointing to a little grey mushroom with a brown cross on its head.

"It'll kill ya," Kanoa replies curtly.

"How about this one?"

"That'll turn ya blue."

"What about- this one!"

"Well you'll turn blue- and then it'll kill ya."

"This... one?"

She scratches her chin, "Actually, I'm not sure about that one."

"Deal!" Rig says giddily, shoving it into his mouth.

" _Gaaaah_ ," Spirit groans, "We've been out here for _HOURS_."

"The signal's growing stronger, I swear," Kanoa pleads, shaking the small metallic box in her hands for emphasis.

The little mesh speaker on the radio beeps like a weak heartbeat.

"What if we get lost out here?" Spirit continues.

"Don't worry, I'll be able to find you pretty easily."

"What do you mean?" Spirit asks.

"Well, I just kind of have a _feel_ for it. Guess growing up in the sticks means you get used to catching onto subtle clues."

"Like footprints?" Rig butts in with an emphatic stomp.

"Yeah, I guess."

The radio starts to beep more steadily.

Kanoa jerks into motion, "I think we're onto something!"

"I second that guess," Spirit squints into the distance, "Considering there's a giant metal spike jutting out of the ground over there."

Rig sees the metallic tip over the treeline and dashes off past his companions. Spirit fails to grab him.

"Rig! Wait!"

Rig slows down only a few yards ahead of them, staring upwards as his grin melts. Spirit and Kanoa follow suit. Their jaws drop at the sight of the twisted and rusted metal bars in front of them, almost distorted beyond recognition. The tower leans noticeably to the left, due to several warped struts in its midsection. While the base is slightly more intact, all the wires running along its height are severed as shattered lights line the perimeter.

"It looks a little… broken," Rig comments.

"'Broken' would be an understatement," Spirit replies, "What happened to this thing?"

"Maybe a storm knocked it down," Kanoa suggests.

"I doubt anything natural did this. And it's not like the Grimm would have a grudge against it, either."

While Rig begins to climb the old steel as if it's an oversized jungle gym, Spirit walks up, placing a hand against the tower.

"This has to be sabotage," Spirit says.

The look on his face as he turns to Kanoa makes her frown.

"What? Don't tell me you think _I_ did it!"

"Not necessarily _you_."

"If you're about to tell me that my village had something to do with this-"

"Well, it seems very likely, considering you had zero idea this thing even existed here in the first place."

"Are you kidding me?! If the Grimm wouldn't go for it, then why would my people?!"

"Precisely _because_ they think the Grimm would."

"GUYS!" Rig calls from above.

"Not now, Rig. And could you get down from there?!" Spirit yells back.

"NO, I THINK YOU _REALLY_ NEED TO SEE THIS!"

"Fine," Spirit sighs, offering Kanoa his arm.

"Huh?"

"Grab on, we're going up."

"I don't do heights."

"GUYS!" Rig repeats.

"Ugh," Kanoa groans and takes hold.

Spirit shoots a hook onto the rung below Rig and the two zip up. When they arrive at the top, the pair are greeted by a paralyzing view.

A vast clearing in the trees is littered with the ruins of geometric buildings, their faded gray facades jutting out at odd angles like a cemetery after a hurricane. Slinking across crumbled bridges and crawling out of dark burrows in the collapsed walls of homes are dozens- no, _hundreds_ of Grimm of all shapes and sizes. The void black of their nightmare-wrought frames and the purplish smog of their exhales seem to emanate into the air, casting a palpable cloud of death over the whole scene of decay.

"Wha-?" Kanoa sputters.

None of them can muster the courage to say a word as they hang precariously from the creaking metal rungs, bathing in the sun's last eerie light. Their trance is broken by a rung giving out from beside them and clattering to the bottom.

Spirit turns to Kanoa.

"Are you convinced now?"

 **-XX・XX-**

Travelling in mutual silence, they return in time to trade the sunset for lights in the village windows that appear one by one, mimicking the stars above. As soon as they arrive at her house, Kanoa splits off.

"Wait-Kanoa, where are you going?" Rig calls out.

"I need to think some things over," she mutters, just before entering her house and slamming the door behind her.

Spirit looks at his partner. "Well, Rig, can we get out of here _now_?"

Rig nods silently.

"Oh- uh- okay then." Spirit scratches the back of his head. "Really?"

Rig is still.

"Great. Let's book it," Spirit says as he already starts jogging away.

Rig follows him up until the buildings start to thin, then until the trees start to crowd, then stops. Hearing the lack of thunderous footsteps behind him, Spirit turns on his heel.

"What? You need to take a leak?"

Rig's eyes are downcast for a second before they slowly move up to match Spirit's eye level.

"We should wait for Kanoa."

Spirit's scoff is loud enough to echo between the pines, "Are you serious?! You saw what they were hiding! And I was stupid enough to think for even a second that _we_ were the ones who were going to put _them_ in danger!"

"But- we didn't help anyone! All we did was make it worse- because now she's gonna want answers."

"Listen. I'm at my wit's end. See, there's a point where it bends," Spirit motions with a palm at hip level. "And there's a point where it breaks," he moves his hand up to his neck. "And we're _here_ ," he barks, stretching his hand upwards as far as he can reach.

"Can we wait- please?"

"Do you not understand the meaning of 'wit's end'?"

"Do _you_ not understand the meaning of friends?"

Spirit winces, pursing his lips and turning away.

"So," Rig starts, "Can we wait? Just a little bit?"

Spirit leans up against a nearby tree, crossing his arms.

"Spirit?"

"Fine," Spirit finally replies, still refusing to make eye-contact. "Let's just bother everyone some more. But _you're_ dealing with them. See what I care."

Volunteering to prolong the previous vow of silence, the pair waits, watching the moon tick up into the sky. Listening to the intensifying orchestra of the night, hoots and cricket fiddles allow the moment to claw its way into their every drowned-out thought.

Eventually, a rustle of leaves relieves their anxiety. Out from the shadows emerges Kanoa, walking on tiptoe. Rig hides around the edge of a tree, and as she walks past them, he pops out.

"Hey there!"

Kanoa jumps back and pulls out her mace in one motion before she absorbs the familiar face. Her surprise melts into annoyance, and then, reassurance.

"See Spirit! I told you she'd come!"

"But why?" Spirit asks.

"Because you were right," she admits. "They're hiding something from me, and from everyone else too. And I'm curious and confused and I think I just need some space to think things over. It's hard not to feel like I owe you guys for cracking my eyes open, either..." She trails off. "More importantly, I think that the best thing I can do to protect them all is to go out and find help."

A few seconds after she finishes, Spirit gives her a blank stare.

"All right then," he says, "Let's go."

 **-XX・XX-**


	4. Vol 1 Ch 4 - From the Shadows

"Do you know what's the worst part about camping?" Spirit rubs at his arms, "Mosquitos!"

" _O_ -no," Rig chimes in, "Another all-you-can-eat Spirit buffet?"

"Rig, you're just happy because these useless gnats keep going after me instead of you!"

"Hey, I'm type _A_."

The nighttime air settles lightly around them. After a few hours of travel, the pines had begun to gradually mix in with stouter, flower-bearing trees, accompanying an increase in the lively sounds of chirps, squeaks, and caws emanating from tree-hole apartments. Small crystalline beehives hanging like fruit from branches glow faintly yellow, mercifully scattering a perfumed smell of honey amid the three worn-out travellers sitting in a triangle.

Spirit loudly smacks one of his arms again, "GAH! I swear, if these things turn into Grimm, it's all over for humanity!"

"We wouldn't have to worry about that if we had a roof over our heads," Kanoa reminds him, "Where's the next rest stop anyways? I didn't pack sleeping bags with me, you know."

As she turns to Rig, Rig turns to Spirit, who turns his focus away from the mini-bloodsuckers.

"We're heading east," Spirit replies, "There's a coast by there, so we're bound to hit a village as long as we stick-"

" _Bound_ to hit a village?" Kanoa tilts her head to the side. "Did you guys get lost on your way here?"

"No, we didn't. It's just that..." Spirit hesitates, "This particular place we're looking for is a little obscure on maps. We know it's around this general area, but not much else."

"Huh? Have you never been to this place before?" Kanoa asks.

"No, but someone we knew did," Spirit explains, "We're actually looking for this place for her."

"Nimaaa!" Rig chirps, "It's always better to get the harder things out of the way first, right? Cuz then the last part's always easier."

Spirit responds to Rig's smile with a glare. Kanoa is too busy shaking her head to notice.

"So, let me get this straight," Kanoa begins, "You guys set out for a village only your friend knew… without actually knowing its name or exact place on a map?"

"Yep!" Rig nods.

"... Common sense entirely aside, why didn't this 'Nima' come with you then?"

Spirit and Rig go sullen.

"Well, that's because… " Rig's mouth wrings itself into neutral, "She couldn't."

"Oh," Kanoa says, straightening her back, "Oh, wow. I'm sorry."

"In any case, knowing Nima, we would have imagined her village would have had at least one family of Faunus in it. And, judging by you and the other villagers… " Spirit's eyes scan Kanoa's figure from top to bottom, "You don't fit the description."

Kanoa's forehead twitches as she glances over to Rig, "Did he just ogle me?"

Rig shrugs playfully, "Wait- there's times when he doesn't?"

"Harr, harr," Spirit rolls his eyes, "Seriously though, there weren't any Faunus in your village, right?"

"Well you could say I grew up there or something, so you bet I would have seen one," Kanoa answers.

"Yeah, I figured," Spirit says, "From tomorrow onward, we're heading east. If you don't want to tag along, now would be a pretty good time to turn around."

"I think I've already settled on my choice," Kanoa replies, garnering a fist pump from Rig in the background.

Spirit nods, "Then it's settled."

"Cool beans!" Rig cheers. He flips on his side, pulling an imaginary blanket over himself, "Early Grimm get the Hunters!"

"That's… dark. But Rig's right," Kanoa comments before getting up, "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to get my beauty sleep somewhere else."

Spirit chimes in, "You sure you want to do that? I could keep watch while you sleep."

"Uh, that's exactly why I'm sleeping separately from you guys," she replies, slinging her sack of belongings over her shoulder and walking off, "Night."

"Night!" Rig turns to Spirit, "You're not gonna fall asleep again though, are you?"

"The sooner you sleep, the less likely that'll happen," Spirit replies.

Rig giggles before all goes quiet again. Spirit lays his head back against the soft bark of the flowering tree. He slaps at another tingling sensation on his arm as he stares up at the stars.

 **-XX・XX-**

"Where do you think you're going, Spirit?"

The dark figure in the room freezes in place. From the corner, a tall lamp clicks on. Even with just the faint, orange glow illuminating the area, it was enough. Spirit can make out Mom standing with her hands clasped by her heart and Father sitting in the wooden armchair by her.

Spirit breathes in, still keeping his eyes on the door just a few feet in front of him.

"My ship is leaving."

"To where?" Father asks.

"You already know where, don't you?"

"Only a rough idea by these."

Father tosses two books onto the ground in front of him. Just by the color of the spines alone, Spirit knows their titles. "Basics of Weapon Crafting" and "Grimm Survival Tactics." Atop them is an envelope brandishing Vale's insignia, its lip torn open.

"I'm uncertain as to what disturbs me more," Father continues, "this, or the filth I've been finding in your room."

"You looked through my stuff. Again."

"You sleep under our roof, eat our food, and wear the clothes we gifted you. You even used the money we entrusted you with to buy these books. What is wrong with my actions?"

"Everything!" Spirit yells, "Everything is wrong!"

"Keep your voice down. Do not disturb the neighbors," Father instructs. He picks up the empty envelope, pulling out a sheet hand-ripped at the bottom. "This letter had a ticket attached to it. I've known you are going to Signal tonight, but I am asking where are you heading beyond that."

"To Beacon Academy."

Mom chokes a sob as she looks down. Father shifts on his chair, puffing out his chest.

"Do you think we are ignorant of the world? Are you trying to become a Bodhisattva?"

"I don't know, Father!" Spirit turns to him, "Even with all these books, I _literally_ don't know anything! If life is beautiful enough to be reincarnated in, then I'd imagine there's a lot more to the world beyond miles and miles of sand!"

"I told you to keep your voice down."

"You're not getting it, are you?" Spirit says, maintaining his tone. "I'm done. I'm through with being caged in here and neither of you are changing that."

"Spirit, please! You're going to hurt yourself!" Mom rushes for him, grabbing one of his wrists.

"Mom, no!" Spirit wrestles against her iron grip. "Let go!"

"My baby boy, you can't go!"

"Stop it!"

With all his strength, he pulls in the opposite direction, breaking her hold. Mom falls to the ground, but she stays down as her sobs grow worse.

"Is this how you treat the woman who toiled to bring you into this world?!" Father jolts up, "I thought we taught you better!"

Spirit says nothing as he turns back to the door. He takes a step forward.

"Stop!" Father cries as Spirit takes a few more steps forward. "The moment you take a single step out of that door, you are no longer our son!"

Spirit pauses just as his hand wraps around the doorknob. Everything was too blurry with the lamp so far away and his tears obscuring his vision, but by muscle memory, he knows where the lock is.

It clicks.

"Fine," he says, his words quivering as much as the wrist he's using to turn the handle. "I'm sorry I couldn't stick to tradition."

 **-XX・XX-**

"What a liar," Rig yucks, poking Spirit's sleeping face.

Two stomachs rumbling in symphony alert him to the presence of Kanoa, coming through the brush.

"You want some food or something?" she asks, rubbing her baggy eyes.

"Yes ma'am," Rig responds, jumping up to his feet.

Kanoa yawns, "M'alright, let's find some."

Rig frowns, cocking his head, "Are you ok?"

Kanoa limply waves a hand, "Yeah, Idunno. Couldn't sleep too good."

"Nervous cuz you're leaving the village for the first time?" Rig asks.

"A little bit," she replies, "That, and I had the strangest feeling that someone was watching me."

"You sure it wasn't Spirit?" Rig asks.

"As likely as that is, I don't think it was him."

Spirit shivers a little, sniffling as he comes to life.

"Morning Spirit. Sleep well?" Rig asks.

"Mheskfnasdjf. Kind of."

"And you learned how to speak Grimm, too!"

Spirit waves Rig away with his arm. As he does so, he hears a clinking sound come from his hookshot.

"What the-?" Spirit stares at the hookshot on his right arm. "Oh no, don't tell me this thing's busted…"

"Great. While you fix that, you can hold camp and watch my stuff," Kanoa adds, dropping her sack in front of him with a thud as they walk off. "Rig and I are going to get us something to eat."

Spirit rubs the back of his head, tussling his hair to get rid of bits of bark and pollen, "On the off chance you find any waffles, let me know."

Slipping his arm out of the latches, he brings the device to rest in his lap. Spirit groans once he pops open the box resting atop the wrist area, muttering, "Well this isn't good."

He notices a weak crackling sound coming from somewhere, and lifts the mechanism to his ear. Strangely enough, it's not coming from there.

Perking his ears, Spirit gropes the grass around him to make sure nothing fell off his hookshot. He finds nothing until his hand brushes up against the sack Kanoa left lying on the ground. The sound seems to be emanating from inside.

He withdraws his hand, hovering it over her belongings as he ponders his options. After a short while, Spirit decides and quickly reaches in, grabbing onto a cold rectangular box and pulling it out. What looks like a radio receiver hums lightly in his hand, and although no voices come through, it's certainly the buzz he was looking for.

He stares at it for a little bit longer than he should, as if expecting a voice to come out, and then shuts it off, tossing it back into the bag. Without any spare motions, he returns to working on his hookshot.

"Let's see if I remember how to do this."

 **-XX・XX-**

"So, tell me something," Kanoa says, adding a small blueberry to a handful, "What's it like to go around doing whatever you want?"

Crouching, Rig turns around suddenly, giving her a deer caught in the headlights look with his mouth plastered red and cheeks stuffed.

Kanoa lets out a deep belly laugh, "I see."

Rig swallows as much as he can, "It'sh not what it looksh like- I just got hungry so I ate a bunch of berriesh."

Continuing to laugh, she asks, "How is that not _exactly_ what it looks like?"

"I- uh. Well, it'sh Shpirit's fault we didn't eat anything before we left!" he says mid-chew, blowing a literal raspberry by accident.

Kanoa raises an eyebrow, "Can't you have one conversation without mentioning Spirit?"

Rig stops chewing. "Well, what's so bad about that?"

"I don't know, it's just a little weird that you keep bringing him up."

"That's cuz he's the team leader. He's the most important member of the team!" Rig smiles.

"Riiight. But what does being team leader mean exactly in a team of two?"

"Well, we didn't used to be a team of two when we had Flora and Nima. Now, though, I guess he always makes the plans and tells me what to do."

"Sounds like he bosses you around a lot."

"No, it's more like-" Rig trails off, thinking.

"Like what?"

Returning to a smile, Rig says, "He's a little strict, but he's so cool if you get to know him, you know?"

"If you're trying to make him look good in front of me it's not gonna work," she teases.

"No, I mean it. He's really cool."

Kanoa rolls her eyes, "Sure thing," then tastes a yellow berry, frowning at its overpowering sourness.

Rig finally begins to start gathering some berries into his other hand.

"What about you?" Kanoa asks.

"Me? Oh that's easy! I-." he cuts himself off, "don't like these berries too much, actually."

"No, seriously, tell me something about yourself," she frowns.

"My favorite color is green?" Rig offers.

Kanoa releases an exasperated sigh, "Ok, fine. Listen, if that's your shtick, I'll leave you to it."

She starts getting up before Rig yelps out, "Wait, no-"

Kanoa turns to him, "I'm listening."

"I used to be pretty good friends with a bunch of people back at Beacon. And eventually, I even became friends with my team. Nima was really outgoing and stuff, and Flora was a little quiet, and- well... I guess I don't have too many friends now, but-"

"Now you're just telling me about all the people you knew," she responds as she gets up.

"Sorry," Rig mumbles, looking downcast at the berries in his hands.

"Don't worry about it," Kanoa says, patting him on the shoulder, "Let's just get these berries back to Spirit before he starves."

 **-XX・XX-**

"Ugh," Spirit frowns as he lifts up one of the rusted gears in his hookshot, inspecting it under the late morning sun. "All this worn, old junk… I should've asked Kanoa for some spare parts."

"We're baaaaack!" Rig yells on cue.

Spirit lowers the piece of metal in his hands as he watches Rig and Kanoa drop their handfuls of berries onto the ground.

"Oh. Nice," Spirit picks up one of the tiny fruits between two fingers, "As if I wasn't skinny enough. What I wouldn't do for some grilled fish right about now..."

"Well excuse me, Princess, but there hasn't been a single river in miles," Kanoa places a hand on her hips. "And last I checked, fish don't exactly swim in the ground now, do they?"

"I really hope you're wrong on that 'miles' part," Spirit shoves a handful of berries in his mouth, "Our map doesn't have Vale's smaller rivers drawn on it for whatever reason. Rivers usually mean civilization."

"Hey, like I said! It's always better to get the harder things out of the way first, right?" Rig reminds them.

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about while you were gone," Spirit says. "I've been doing some thinking and I've realized maybe it's a bad idea to go after Nima's village first, especially on a lack of supplies. I think we should set course for Anchor instead, seeing as to how close it should be from here."

"Anchor?" Kanoa asks, "So that's where Flora lived, right?"

"Okay. Rig," Spirit turns to his partner, frowning. "You need to seriously watch what you're saying in front of other people. Our history isn't an open book."

"But I didn't say anything!" Rig protests.

"I figured that much out myself. Besides, what's the big deal?" Kanoa steps forward, "If we're going to be travelling together, shouldn't we be transparent about things?"

"Let me put it this way," He presses the palms of his hands together in a prayer-like fashion, moving them down. "Imagine if the moment we heard about your grandfather we immediately started asking questions prodding into who he was and what he did. Would you feel comfortable with that?"

"That's not the same thing though." Kanoa crosses her arms, "Me asking you about your friends isn't just out of curiosity. Those two are the reason you and Rig are running around in the first place, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then that's exactly my point. I should know more about them too if they're that important to this journey. I may even be able to help you guys if I know anything."

"But," Spirit continues, "The thing is, you'd have the choice to share that information and nobody else. I don't feel comfortable with Rig sharing our personal histories the same way you wouldn't feel comfortable if the Elder said something about your grandfather."

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Kanoa's tone turns sharp as she narrows her eyes, "Those aren't just _your_ friends. They're Rig's too. If Rig wants to share something about them, what right do you have to censor and control him?"

"Excuse me, but how long do you think you've been travelling with us?"

"Guys," Rig steps between them, "Look, it's not a big deal. I'll just ask Spirit before I say anything else, alright? Besides, don't we have something more important to worry about?"

Kanoa takes a deep breath, "Earlier, you said you were having some technical problems. We could go back to Vivica and restock while we're turning back around."

Rig and Spirit respond with blank stares. Kanoa raises an eyebrow.

"You know, Vivica? My village?"

"Oh!" Spirit exclaims, "Oh, of course! Yeah, we knew that."

"Wait, we did?" Rig asks, "I thought the name wasn't on our map-?"

Spirit bites his lower lip as he looks at Rig, silencing him. Kanoa sighs.

"It's fine. You guys weren't there for long, anyways."

"In any case, get your stuff ready," Spirit pockets the remainder of the berries, "We're heading to Anchor after a quick stop at Vivica."

"I… don't like that idea," Rig mumbles.

"Rig," Spirit presses his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to repeat myself. What are you being so stubborn about?"

"No, I totally get what you mean. It's just that, I…" Rig pauses on his next line, "I think you need to clear things up with Nima first."

Everyone freezes in place. The atmosphere grows tense, and it gets a little hard to breathe.

"Wait!" Rig announces, "Something smells like smoke!"

"What, again?" Spirit recoils, "Where's this coming from?"

"Over there!" Rig points and gets moving, as if scrambling to outrun the reach of his finger.

"Rig, wait! AGH!" Spirit scrambles to make last-minute readjustments to his hookshot. He turns to Kanoa. "We'll be back in a bit, just stay put for now!"

Kanoa gives Spirit one brief glance of understanding before he bolts after his friend. As the two of them bolt off into the distance, Kanoa rubs her eyes and starts rummaging through her bag. She pulls out the receiver device and clicks it on. Nothing but static comes out until she twists a thimble dial back and forth until the prickly sound mellows out just right.

A lightly crackling silence sits unbroken, but so does Kanoa. She waits, ear near the receiver, weary eyes closed, and breath bated. The woodland sounds fade as her ears strain to pick up any distinguishing noise at all.

Minutes pass. Perhaps longer.

Kanoa bites her lip to keep herself focused, and anxious hope is born as a single sweat drop crawls down her forehead. The silence continues. Even though her hand hurts, she grips the receiver tighter and tighter. Suddenly, a door creaks in the distance.

And then, voices.

Mumbles at first. They grow clearer, emerging from muffled syllables as sounds of shuffling footsteps gather somewhere close to the microphone on the other end. Half a dozen wooden chairs scrape on an old floor, and then the thuds of butts and the heavy slam of a door further away.

A single throat clears.

"We need to do something about Kanoa," The Elder says.

Her eyes rip themselves open and her heart begins to pound and twist.

"Yes, yes," another voice pipes in.

"She has made a poor choice in judgement. Abandoning us to run away with those outsiders."

Her chest keeps tightening.

"We have to do something about her," a third voice mutters, receiving hushed mumbles of approval.

"Yes, she's been acting out ever since the last Elder passed," the second voice responds.

"But she's the grandchild of an Elder, wouldn't it cause more problems to try to silence her?" a fourth, skeptical voice asks softly, "Besides, Kanoa would never-"

"Are you seriously suggesting we do nothing about that girl? Have you gone soft merely because the outsiders saved your skin?" the Elder booms.

There's a brief silence punctuated by a dry, crackling cough.

"Then tonight," the Elder resumes, "We'll hold a meeting with the villagers. It'll give us a chance to explain everything, _including how the recent Grimm attacks have been her fault_."

At the last part, she drops the radio receiver and start shivering. There's a slight pause before the second and third voice agree.

"Here, here," and the chairs start squeaking again.

Heaving rapidly, Kanoa picks the receiver back up and clicks it off, then throws it in the sack and rushes out of the camp in silence.

 **-XX・XX-**

Unable to use his hookshots to catch up to Rig, Spirit barely manages to keep track of the constantly shifting tuft of cargo pants that keeps disappearing left and right between trees. He runs blindly into a large bush, spiky branches whipping him as he tumbles through, and emerges into a small clearing where Rig stands over an ash-covered pit.

"Looks like a campfire was here."

"Yeah," Spirit heaves, picking pieces of bush out of his robe shirt.

"It's been put out recently for us to have noticed the smell."

"I-" he coughs, "Still don't know how you did that."

"Must have something to do with this," Rig says, crouching down and picking up a burned piece of something on a similarly blackened stick, "They were making _food_ here, Spirit."

"More importantly-" Spirit's brows jump up in realization, " _who_ was making food here?"

"Could it be that hooded guy?"

"Well, Kanoa _did_ say we were being followed."

"You would be correct," a gruff voice comes out from the trees to their left.

Rig and Spirit turn to see the familiar grey and brown form of the hooded Hunter step out from around a tree trunk. Although the shadow of the hood cuts off everything above the bridge of his nose, the pair can still shiver at the overconfident sneer radiating out at them.

"Although, not just by me it seems," he adds, stretching his arms.

"W-what do you mean by that?" Spirit asks, backing off.

"You think I'd be obvious enough to leave a campfire like that laying around?"

"Especially one so close I could smell it," Rig chimes in.

"Exactly."

"Just who's side are you on?!" Spirit yells at Rig.

"Not sure," he replies with a giggle, whipping out his axe.

The Hunter circles his neck around.

"You boys ready for a lesson?"

 **-XX・XX-**


	5. Vol 1 Ch 5 - Acceleration

"You boys ready for a lesson?"

"Rig!" Spirit whispers as he pulls Rig in close, "One of my hookshots is still damaged!"

"Oh! Uh oh, that's a problem," Rig turns to the Hooded Hunter, "Err, excuse me, but you mind if we can do this another time? My friend's thingie doesn't work."

The Hooded Hunter blasts off, his feet straight towards them in a jump kick. Spirit raises his arms.

"WAIT, WAIT, NO-!"

The Hunter grabs Spirit's left arm, twisting him around by his wrist to use as a human shield. Rig swings his axe anyways, forcing the Hunter to let go and shove Spirit forward.

"You nearly sliced me in half!" Spirit yells as Rig grabs hold of him, "And why did you tell him that?!"

"Whoops!" Rig grins. He gravity rushes in the opposite direction of the Hunter with Spirit in his grasp, "If he was a good sport, he'd make it fair by not using both hands or something! Besides, we got away!"

"Yeah, but what's the next step, huh?!"

Where Rig had only jumped straight upwards, the Hooded Hunter travels in the air at a steeper angle, homing in the distance very quickly. A translucent platform appears just below Rig's feet, giving him the opportunity to propel himself again.

"Thanks!" Rig says as they fly towards the forest.

"Rig, where are we going?!" Spirit yells, continuing to make platforms.

"Anywhere but Vivica!"

A small rock whizzes past Rig's side as they travel deeper back into the forest.

"Not the pebbles again!" Rig cries.

Spirit summons vertical platforms behind them, each barely deflecting the rock-bullets. "Rig! I can't keep this up forever!"

"I know, neither can I!" he says, nodding rhythmically through building lightheadedness in between every long jump. Their pursuer has almost closed the gap when the trees begin to clear and Rig's face lights up, "Wait! Over there!"

In a small clearing just a few leaps ahead and to the right, several small plumes of neat, grey smoke rise into the air behind a tall, wooden fence.

"What?! What is it?!"

"A village!" Rig points with the arm that carries Spirit, nearly dropping him, "We can lose him there! HANG ON TO YOUR BUTT!"

They enter a steep dive towards the settlement with a gut-wrenching sudden turn.

"Wha-?!"

Before Spirit can say anything in response, Rig launches the two of them straight towards the wooden gate, swinging his axe. Splinters scatter everywhere as they crash through, rolling a few times on the dirt before coming to a full halt.

"Rig…" Dazed and laying on his side, Spirit mutters, "You couldn't have thought of a better way to land?"

"Well," Rig coughs, "We could have tried knocking first."

"That, would certainly have been appreciated," an unfamiliar, steely voice interjects.

Spirit gasps as something smashes against his ribcage. When he reflexively rolls onto his back, he realizes it's a steel-toed boot belonging to a man with a five o' clock shadow. The man adjusts the lapel of his ash-grey duster and cracks his knuckles on the flat side of a leg-length, double-bladed tuning fork stuck into the ground beside him.

"Hey mister, I'm sorry if we interrupted your lunch," Rig whips out his axe, "but we have someone to get back to."

"What a coincidence, so do I," the man responds, and then kicks the fork.

The resulting ground shockwave knocks Rig off his feet and flips Spirit over. As they recover, they notice the few dozen other similarly clothed and rough-looking men surrounding them, all brandishing a variety of bladed weapons and equally sharp sneers. Even more pour out of canvas tents, filling in the ranks to lock them in place.

"So uh, Spirit," Rig says as the bandit leader's boot presses against his partner's back, "Remember that campfire we found?"

"I know, Rig," Spirit wheezes, "Just... get him off me!"

Rig flips his axe into shield mode and barrels towards the fork-wielding bandit, who dodges out of the way, leaving his weapon in the ground. Spirit rolls away and jumps to his feet, closing the gap to reach his teammate.

"So what can you do without your oversized fork?" Rig asks.

"Rig!" Spirit chides.

"This," the bandit says through a snicker and whistles, sending a deafening ripple of wind towards the pair from his mouth. Although Rig and Spirit dodge the blast itself, upon hitting the tuning fork, a concussive force sends them back to the ground, spasming due to a lack of muscle control.

Rig manages to stagger back and recover, whipping his weapon into shotgun form and firing a warning shot into the air. Wearing a bare-all face of focus, he takes advantage of the momentary intimidation and gravity rushes himself over to Spirit.

"Just make it past three," Rig mumbles to himself under a heave.

Grabbing Spirit, he then rushes once more, this time to dodge the bandit, who had recovered his fork and come at them with a hair-grazing swing. Another rush gets them just feet from the entrance, and then one more…

One more-

And Rig blacks out.

Just like their entrance, they come crashing through wood, their Auras flashing. Spirit raises his left arm and misfires with the wrong hookshot, a limp arrowhead pouring out the end by its wire and collapsing just inches from freedom. An impact to the back of his skull sends Spirit down too.

His head aches, his stomach grumbles, then his Aura subsides.

And he blacks out.

 **-XX・XX-**

Spirit's stomach grumbles as he sits with rope tied around his hands, clutching his knees to his chest and watching meat slowly turn on a fire pit only half a dozen feet away.

"Well… at least we know they don't eat people," Spirit mumbles to himself.

Rig lays curled into a ball beside him, with both his arms and legs tied. His nose starts to move before anything else, and he flops awake onto his butt.

"Hey boss! They're awake!" The beefy guard at the tent entrance calls.

The tent flap opens and a bandit enters with a few more in tow behind him. Spirit straightens up, eyes widening as he notices it's the tuning fork wielder.

"Rise and shine, kids. Tell me," the leader says as he kneels down to their level, "Why'd you two idiots come tumbling into our camp?"

"Oh you know, we're just- t-tourists," Spirit blurts.

"Oh," he motions with faux awe, "Do tell me where you were planning to go."

"We're Hunters, and we're going to take you down," Rig says with indignation, puffing out his chest.

Spirit gives Rig an angry and confused glance.

"That would explain the weapons we found on you, and the powers, but yeah right- you have no IDs. You boys lost? Can't find your way home?"

"Maybe," Rig pouts.

Spirit realizes the act, and similarly makes a pitiable face.

"Perhaps you'd like me to take you home?"

"Really?" Spirit chimes in, "You'd do that?"

"Yeah," the leader leans in, smiling, "How about that cozy little village just a bit west of here?"

Spirit goes limp.

"What? But we're from Anchor," Rig protests.

"You can drop the act," the leader commands, straightening out.

Rig looks down and away, going meticulously quiet.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, kid," the bandit sneers, "That's _our_ job. If our scouts hadn't been tracking you, I almost would've believed you just now."

He stands back up and turns to his men, "Get your gear. We're raiding in an hour." The bandit leader looks at the guard. "That includes you too."

The guard nods and they all exit the tent. Rig sniffs the air.

"Foood?" he calls with a hint of melancholy.

"You and your nose again, Rig. Did you shove a smoke detector up there when you were little or something?"

"It'd be a lie to say I _didn't_ put anything up my nose," Rig giggles mischievously.

"Gross. Didn't your mom teach you better than that?"

"Did _your_ mom teach you how to untie a knot with no hands?"

"Wait, what? If you're telling me you could have gotten us out of here an hour ago, then you better have a couple of ice packs on you."

"No ice, but I do think we have fire," Rig replies coyly, nodding his head towards the fire pit.

"How's that gonna help us?"

"Moral support- but also a distraction if we need one."

"How are you so calm right now?!" Spirit whispers angrily.

"Even hostage situations can be fun if you have your buddies- well, usually, at least."

"In case you're forgetting, Rig, we have a buddy waiting for us back at the camp and -wait," Spirit looks around the dark, crate-packed tent, "how long were we out for?"

Rig shrugs. Spirit looks at the tent's flap entrance.

"Can you blow it open a bit to let some sunlight in? I didn't really get a chance to see while we were being interrogated."

Rig scrunches his mouth, "Been a while since I had to do something that precise, but let's see."

He strains rapidly against his bindings, moving like a worm to send himself flying a little bit away. As he lands, air rushes and folds the flap open for a few seconds.

The bright yellow light of midday sun peeks in and they see many, many pairs of legs.

"Did you see that? They're all gathering outside- it's like an army!" Spirit exclaims.

"Mhmph," Rig responds, slowly mulching a large chunk of meat into his mouth.

"Rig."

"Mphaph?" Rigs eyes widen and he nods eagerly.

"At least give me some, would you? I'm starving."

Rig launches himself back and rolls towards Spirit, who stares angstily at the food in his friend's mouth before going, "Nevermind, you can have it."

With glee, Rig continues to work at the food as Spirit taps his foot patiently.

"Could you untie us already?"

"Mph," Rig swallows, "Sorry, it was tasty."

Spirit watches Rig contort, stretching his arms and shoulders to bring the bindings under his feet and over to his mouth. He sinks his teeth into the rope, making a plethora of activated chewing noises.

When it starts going on for a bit too long, Spirit speaks up, "Is that how your mom taught you to do it?"

"Oh gosh no. She taught me to do it like _this_."

 _POW!_

With a swaggering heave of his chest, Rig uses his gravity rush to rip his hands apart.

"Great, now only if she could have taught me. You're not biting the rope off of my hands by the way."

"Nope. Watch and learn," Rig says, grabbing Spirit's wrists in one hand and angling a chop at the center of the rope with his other.

"Wait, wait, wait-!"

 _POW!_

Rig tenses his shoulder and brings his hand down with an air-warping force clean through the rope. As Spirit rubs his newly freed wrists, Rig falls over onto his side.

"Rig, are you okay?"

"Probably," he mumbles, and after a little wiggling around to regain his senses, adds, "My legs are still tied."

"Yeah, hang on. I gotcha."

Spirit manually unties Rig's legs with both hands.

"So what now?" Rig asks.

"Well, I would presume we're going to try and escape. But so would our favorite stalker."

"So he's just waiting for us?"

"Exactly- probably until right after all these bandits march out and then- _Clap!_ " Spirit claps his hands, "he swoops in and takes us away to whatever twisted rat-hole they throw AWOL Hunters in. So as you can tell, we need to escape before they leave."

"What about _as_ they're leaving? That way, we can confuse _everyone_."

"That- might work?"

"Yeah, one of us can play keep away while the other sneaks around and finds an escape route."

"Can we actually pull that off? We would need to find our weapons first," Spirit feels for his pockets, "They took our map, too."

"Yeah, you're right. And also, I think that was my last shotgun shell back there, so…"

"We need to find supplies and locate our weapons before anything else."

Rig stands and kicks open one of the nearby crates, filling the room with a dim red light from inside. He reaches in and pulls out a small, red Dust crystal full of little grey capsules indicating impurity.

Spirit helps him open a few more crates, only to find much of the same.

"Did they really put us in the same tent as crates and crates of explosives?" Spirit scoffs.

"Well, don't get excited," Rig frowns as he examines the crystal, "in Atlas, we call this Slack Dust."

" _Slack-_ Dust?"

"Yeah, it's basically an intermediary byproduct of pure Dust processing, because during preliminary retrograde purification there's always impure, natural ore deposit-laden chaff that gets sifted out and - _wham_ \- Slack Dust. Any questions?" Rig asks, motioning with the crystal the whole time.

"Yeah… One, how do you know all that, and how do you know all those big words?"

"That was two."

Spirit groans, "You get the point."

Without skipping a beat, Rig starts up, "This stuff's gonna be more or less useless without something to set it off, so-"

Rig crouches near the campfire. With an eager expression, he reaches his arm out and drops the crystal in, resulting in a blast about as loud as a finger snap and a puff of black smoke.

"Rig, can you _not_ alert the entire camp while you're playing mad scientist with _Slap_ Dust?"

Rig goes back to the crates and fills his cargo short pockets with as much as they can fit.

Spirit puts his hand to his chin, "So, let's split up then. You take-"

"I'll sneak, you distract," Rig interrupts, crawling out under the rear left wall of the tent.

"Guess I'll check the boss's tent for our weapons," Spirit mutters and slips out under the right side.

Spirit exposes himself for a brief moment before quickly moving under the next tent spaced just a few feet away from the last. He moves swiftly and quietly enough that a few of the bandits who turn around shrug off the unusual shuffling as wind.

"Okay. First tent…" Spirit whispers as he looks around.

The sight of just a wooden table and a few cylindrical logs as makeshift chairs immediately dashes his hopes. His eyes quickly scan the table, telling him there are only a few half-eaten plates and a small amount of Lien the bandits left lying around. Spirit grabs the money and one of the drumsticks with a large bite in it. He peels off a small, unchewed portion of the meat before tossing it into his mouth like a piece of gum. Although it's cold and gamey, his starvation makes it taste like Mother's cooking.

Hearing voices nearby, Spirit rolls through the back of the tent just as one of the bandits steps inside, laughing. The laughter stops abruptly.

"Rick!" The footsteps now grow distant, leading towards the tent entrance, "Did you take my Lien again, you greedy pinhead?!"

"Who're you calling pinhead, you lying punk?!"A second voice replies from outside, "I didn't touch your filthy pocket change!"

Loud scuffling ensues and is soon overlapped with cheers from the other bandits. Spirit faces the next tent, which is much farther away than the space between the last two tents. Its relatively large size and dark color catches Spirit's eye even before the bandit leader storms outside with his fork at the ready. Just as the leader passes by while screaming incomprehensibly amidst the chaos, Spirit sprints for the tent and rolls underneath.

The yelling from outside dies as Spirit gets up. Various treasures surround him here, including a plaque-mounted, fake Grimm skull, a large, ornate flower vase chock full of various swords, and ceramic wares encrusted with twinkling gemstones. In the center of it all is a out-of-style leather chair standing in front of a fine wooden desk. Spirit stands over the desk, pocketing the Lien laying on the leader's table.

"Consider that your entertainment fee," Spirit whispers to himself, "Hope you enjoyed our company."

After taking the last of the money, he picks up a piece of old parchment left on the desk:

Their map.

In its fully repaired form, to be exact. Tape has been sloppily slapped across, connecting the ripped-off Atlas portion with the rest of Remnant.

With a sigh of relief, Spirit lowers the map and involuntarily looks to a corner. He breathes in more than usual on the next inhale.

Their weapons.

Spirit clicks on his hookshots. He clenches his fists, feeling a surge of warmth as if his Aura is overcharging.

"Alright, Rig. You want a distraction?" Spirit narrates, picking up Rig's axe, "I'll distract the whole continent."

On the other side of the camp, Rig comes across a large backpack hidden behind one of the many metal cots in the tent. Heaving it up, he dumps out its contents, which turn out to be a rock collection with each colorful stone individually packaged in its own small, clear case. They make a, thankfully, quiet plastic clatter as they tumble out.

"That's one way to get your rocks off," Rig snickers, and stands.

Whatever boxes and chests remain in the tent are promptly opened and sifted through, although Rig finds little but dirty clothes and knick-knacks. Before he slips out the back and heads to another tent, he takes one of the rocks, a small orange topaz, as a keepsake, shoving it into the backpack.

Inside the next tent, Rig finds a pantry beside a few portable Dust-powered grills and ovens. He clears through most of its contents without wasting a second, cramming whatever looks good and whatever he can manage into the backpack in between gobbling down any bit of unpackaged food. Rig turns on the cooking devices, tossing Slack Dust into each and causing them to belch flames.

Before the entire inside of the tent can catch fire, he escapes into an alley between tents. As Rig rounds a corner however, a person-shaped blur lands in front of him into a crouch. It stands up and he gets a clearer view:

The Hooded Hunter.

Rig groans, rolling his eyes, "You again?"

"Me again," he quips with a 'yeah I know' look.

A yell coming from their left catches both of them off-guard.

"Boss!" One of the bandits finally cries out, "The kids are gone!"

"Y'know- This place is a little cramped," Rig says and turns to run towards the center of the camp.

"What?!" The bandit leader yells back, "Find them and chop off their legs if you have to!"

"Fire! Fire!" another bandit calls out, causing everyone to whip their heads over to the source, that being kitchen tent that has become almost fully engulfed.

"Belay that order, I'm going to take their heads!" The boss yells, face turning shades of red as he runs off to his tent.

He doesn't even make it a couple steps before Rig pops out between a couple of tents with the Hooded Hunter hot on his heels.

"There you are!" The bandit leader fumes, brandishing his double-blade at him, "I'm going to break you, you little-!"

The Hooded Hunter grabs Rig by the scruff and throws the boy behind him, "Yeah, I can't let you do that."

"Wha-?! There's _three_ of you now?!" A vein pops out of the side of the leader's head, "Who are you supposed to be?!"

"That isn't relevant. I'll be out of your hair soon anyways, with these two troublemakers."

"Does this look like an open-house to you?! I'm not letting you take them in any less than two pieces!" The bandit leader extends his blade out, "And you're not going anywhere, either!"

"Then I have a bit of a conundrum on my hands," the Hunter responds.

When the leader rushes forward, the Hooded Hunter slaps down his tuning fork, burying it into the ground. The Hooded Hunter swings around its long handle and slams his knees into the bandit's face, sending him flying backwards.

Just as the leader manages to land back on his feet, Spirit bursts out of the big tent to everyone's left. He hookshots out to a totem pole in the middle of the camp, madly swinging Rig's axe and managing to take down a few bandits here and there before sticking the landing and balancing precariously atop the wood pole. Bandits begin to swarm the bottom and clamber up as Spirit starts panickedly flipping Rig's weapon between modes.

"How do you even use this thing?!"

"Don't know!" Rig calls back, having started to run away from encroaching bandits and towards the burning tent.

He grabs a spear out of a nearby basket and dips the wood end into the flames, then turns to face his pursuers. Reaching into his pocket, Rig tosses a handful of Slap Dust through the fire, causing it to explode in their faces as it activates.

Using his whistling wind, the bandit leader shifts the flames towards the Hooded Hunter. They fly by like dragons in an inferno, forcing the Hunter to dodge whilst spreading the raging fire throughout the camp.

"Catch!"

A dull _thuck_ behind Rig makes him turn around, seeing Spirit's hookshot impale itself into the camp wall by the busted entranceway. Hearing a whoosh right after, Rig spins to catch his shield-moded weapon just in time to block a bandit's club.

He puts his weight behind a shove, knocking the bandit over before rushing off.

"Sweet!" Rig says as he gets a good feel of his weapon again.

"Let's go!" Spirit yells by the camp gate.

Rig gravity rushes to grab onto his friend before they zip off, leaving the rest of the bandits in a fiery panic. It only takes the Hooded Hunter a few moments to realize his targets are retreating yet again.

"Gentlemen," the Hunter says as he casually sidesteps another flame attack, "As fun as this _warmup_ has been, I really must get going."

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" the leader screams, charging with his recovered Fork-blades.

"Not without leaving a present," the Hooded Hunter responds, dodging the attack and slapping the side of his foe's head.

This sends the bandit flying with a sudden change of direction and he comes down crashing through his own tent. The Hooded Hunter evades the remaining bandits around the totem pole and uses it to fling himself after Rig and Spirit, who by now are disappearing into the distance.

Crawling out from under the canvas wreckage, the leader rallies the bandits with an angry yell.

"AFTER THEM! WE'LL MAKE SURE THEIR RAGGED VILLAGE HAS NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE TOO!"

Distracted by their last-ditch firefighting, the soot-covered bandits do not respond. The leader sighs.

"... _After_ we take care of the fires," he mutters.

 **-XX・XX-**

"Did we lose him?!" Rig yells as he continues platform-hopping.

"I don't know!" Spirit replies, barely managing to maintain his swing with only one hookshot. "I really can't turn around right now! Get rid of that backpack, it's slowing us down!"

"No!" Rig cries in protest.

"What?! Why?!"

Rig reaches into one of the pockets and shoves a piece of meat into his friend's mouth. Spirit tries protesting as he chews, but once he swallows, the annoyance on his face melts.

"I see your point and I got nothin'. Just check behind us, would you?"

As Rig tries to turn his head, he feels a golf-ball sized impact from behind. His back reflexively arches as he yelps. He lands on the next tree, taking a second to recompose himself before jumping again.

"It hurts, but I'm ok!" Rig rubs at his side as his Aura glimmers, "I don't think he's playing around anymore though!"

Spirit grits his teeth before yelling, "Then we won't either! Land to the clearing to our right!"

With a confused expression, Rig makes a hard right with Spirit. They soar a little farther before stopping in a small, grassy part of the forest, devoid of trees.

"Why are we stopping?"

"To fight."

"Huh?!"

"We need to overwhelm him now before he follows us back to Vivica!"

"But how?"

"With as much brute force as we can muster."

"I don't know, Spirit. Didn't he save us from that Behemoth the first time we ran into him? And from the camp, too?"

"Exactly! He clearly needs us alive for whatever reason! We can use that to our advantage and break him!"

"That's a little harsh…"

"And so was him using me as a meatshield!" Spirit braces himself as something blurs towards them, "Come on, we're doing this!"

The Hooded Hunter lands, lifting himself back to his feet slowly. He dusts himself off.

"Are you two finished running yet? Because I'm getting _real_ sick and tired of this."

"Salty because you're 'it,' ya slowpoke?" Rig asks with a grin.

"Adorable," he says, taking a wide stance in preparation for any predictable retreat, "For managing to escape this long, I'm going to give you both an ultimatum."

The Hooded Hunter motions with a handful of rocks, "The next time you both run, I'm aiming for the back of your heads and I won't miss. So unless you want that to happen, you can make this easier for everyone involved and put an end to this ridiculous, month-long game of cat-and-mouse."

"That's why we're not running," Spirit says, putting on the most confident expression he can muster, "You're gonna pay for what you did back there to Rig."

"Yeah!" Rig hoots, maintaining eye-contact with the Hooded Hunter and then whispering to Spirit, "What the heck are we doing?!"

"Bash him on my signal."

"And what's the signal?"

Spirit feels for the mushy pile in one of his pockets, "You'll know."

"So be it," the Hunter shrugs, and charges straight for them.

Spirit runs toward him as well, while Rig trails from behind. The two sides rapidly close the gap. Once the distance between them is only a few meters apart, Spirit lifts his arm and fires his hookshot. The Hunter dodges to the side, turning for a perfect split-second to see the hookshot impale itself to a tree behind him. When he turns back around, Spirit's other hand slaps into his face with a handful of stinging berry mush.

In less than a moment, Rig's eyes narrow with cold and focused recognition. He lowers into a stance so rigidly that his feet dig into the ground, readying his axe for the widest swing possible. Each individual muscle's tension and release rings out as Rig's frame enters the free fall of a full-on attack leading into a gravity rush. Pushing off from the ground, the pocket of force extends beyond merely a kickstart and follows him through the air like a sustained acceleration. Surprised by the extra force, Rig barely manages to flip the double-headed axe to its blunt side before impact.

The air shivers from the blow just before a cannonball-like boom blasts throughout the forest, dropping small beehives nearby like fragrant grenades. Their opponent visibly bends over sideways before flying straight into a tree at mach speed, crashing straight through a first and well into a second. Wooden debris and bees form an artificial smokescreen as the Hooded Hunter disappears from view.

Spirit pulls the arm he used to cover his face from splinters away, "That was insane! How did you just do that?!"

"I… just kinda held it I guess?" Rig answers, knees wavering. He nearly collapses before Spirit catches him falling backwards.

"You alright?" Spirit asks.

"Yeah, just a little woozy."

"Well, at least this time you didn't pass out."

"I sure didn't!" Rig squeaks and jumps to his feet, barely balancing.

"Let's hope the same can't be said about our biggest fan over there."

"Where?"

"You know, past that living barrier of death," Spirit shrugs towards the whirlwind of bees blocking off an entire swath of forest, "Hope he's allergic to those stupid things."

"But bumblebees are cute."

Spirit shrugs, "I prefer ladybugs."

"Can we compromise with 'pollinating' insects?"

"I don't know… that sounds really dirty for some reason."

Rig pops his tongue out, "Anything can be dirty if you put your mind to it! Like that trick you pulled- I can't believe you came up with saving the berries all day for that! It's so smart!"

"Yeah, you really don't wanna know how the inside of my pants feel right now…"

"Spirit, I thought we agreed to keep our private time to ourselves!"

"RIG. STOP."

"Sorry, yeah, we don't have time for jokes."

"Right. We have to get back to Vivica and warn the villagers."

"And find Kanoa," Rig adds.

"Yeah- of course."

As soon as he latches back onto Rig, the two of them fly off with a gravity rush, aided by the steering power of Spirit's only working hookshot. They land at where their camp was supposed to be a few minutes later, only to find it empty.

The pair splits up in a search.

"Kanoa!" Rig calls out with both hands by his mouth, "Kanoaaa! We're leaving! Where are yoooouuu?!"

"She's gone, Rig," Spirit says, emerging from the nearby brush with a scowl.

Rig stands in the middle of the camp, looking around vacantly in silence. He turns back to Spirit with a sullen face.

"No. She wouldn't just leave us like that."

"Well, she did."

Rig frowns, "Isn't it a little early to assume-"

"She's not here, Rig," Spirit says with a bit more weight to his words, "Stop worrying about the unimportant things and let's get a move on. We've wasted enough time as is."

Rig stares straight into Spirit's eyes, " _What's that supposed to mean?_ "

"What's what supposed to mean?"

"You don't abandon your team members."

"But we're not a team. As far as I'm concerned, she was the one who chose to tag along."

"Is that how you always thought about it? Just because it wasn't your choice, you get to treat her like how you treated Nima and Flora?"

"Nima and Flora stuck around because they had to. And since Kanoa didn't, she just left."

"Well maybe she wouldn't have left if you didn't treat her like that before!"

Spirit goes quiet. Shortly after averting his eyes, he glares back at his friend.

"Don't make this my fault, Rig."

"Spirit, I'm just worried, ok? What if something happened to her while we were gone?"

The two of them fall silent.

"...Well," Spirit mumbles, "She _did_ take her radio..."

"Wait- radio?"

"Yeah, I found it earlier while you two were out berry hunting."

"What do you think she was doing with her radio? Maybe she stayed up all night listening to it?"

"I don't think that honestly matters. All that does is that she's probably heading back to Vivica as we speak."

"Then we have to beat her there."

 **-XX・XX-**

The Hooded Hunter watches the sun begin to make its descent, sitting on a thick tree branch several stories above the forest canopy. One hand holds a Scroll to his ear, and the other rests limply in his lap.

"What took you so long?" a voice on the other end chimes in.

"I took a real bad hit during a little wrangling sesh with the kids. For whatever reason, it took me hours of dragging my butt through the middle of nowhere to even find a signal.

"I thought you said you could take on this assignment alone."

"It's a little more complicated than that. I- Listen, those two seem to just court danger wherever they go. I could really use the backup."

"Fine. What's the nearest CCT relay to you?

"Seems to be this one near some place called Anchor."

"Like the old Atlas colony?"

"Don't know."

"Whatever. Go there, rest up, and wait for further notice. I'll contact you again when we're ready to drop by, so just lay low."

"Yeah, thanks," The Hooded Hunter trails off before piping in, "One more thing."

"Huh?"

He rubs a patch of swollen bumps on his side with his elbow. The Hooded Hunter sighs.

"You think they have any ointment for bee stings over in Anchor?"

"How should I know?"

The voice on the other end trails off and the call drops. As soon as the Scroll turns dark, the wounded Hunter gasps, letting out a pained exhale. He's loud enough to startle a nearby squirrel, scaring it right back into its tree hole. Leaning his head back and sighing, he rests his working arm over his wounded one.

This is gonna be a long night.

 **-XX・XX-**


	6. Vol 1 Ch 6 - Viva Vivica! (Part I)

The buttery sun slips farther down a slick orange sky.

"Great people of Vivica," the Elder begins, "I appreciate your gathering here this evening."

The clammering feet and whooshing, loose-hanging clothing of Vivica's villagers stop as the crowd finishes assembling around a charred village square. At the center stands a wooden podium, just in front of the Elder. Behind him are his three grave-faced councilmen.

"As you may have noticed, many things have gone out of order -and out of hand- as of late. First things first, the Grimm have been more active than ever. And if it weren't enough that _those_ foul beasts have been rampaging through our little community, outsiders that bring nothing but trouble have been interfering with village affairs."

Some of the villagers murmur while others maintain blank stares towards the podium.

"Most troubling of all, our favorite problem child, Kanoa, has finally decided to leave us, running off with those two ingrates from before."

Mumbles of disapproval and disbelief fill the air.

"Yes, yes. It seems that it wasn't enough for her to have strong-armed us into letting two Hunters- unlicensed, no less, roam Vivica, which by its own merits of recklessness jeopardizes our entire way of life. She also had the sheer disrespect to abandon tradition- and us in the process."

Everyone goes still. The Elder straightens his back.

"In fact, it begs the question of her being responsible for our most recent Grimm attack in the first place. Look!"

He raises an object high into the air, in plain view of all the people below. Kanoa's radio crackles weakly in his hand.

"This appears to be some kind of sound-transmitter that the girl cooked up. As all of you know, communication with the outside is expressly forbidden."

The crowd gasps.

"For all we know, she could have been attracting Grimm to us this whole time and we would have been none the wiser. In fact, I found this hidden underneath our conference table, which means she must have planted it there for some insidious purpose."

The mumbles become more agitated. Of the audible words, most reflect shock and anger.

"Now, why would she do something as heinous as threatening the existence of our beautiful Vivica, you might ask? Why _indeed_. You see, the previous Elder was a great man, much greater than I, even. And this is a fact that Kanoa had come to resent. Most of you have witnessed her acting out against our laws, brandishing her contraptions in plain disrespect of everything I stand to uphold. But what the child doesn't know, is that I'm merely continuing the same venerable legacy that her grandfather upheld during his time as Elder. For the finest village in all of Vale."

Nods come from the heads, with some even progressing into cheers.

"It seems that the best thing we can do for the village is to move on and forget those traitors who deem it fit to mock our traditions."

Before the crowd can react, the ear-piercing claws of speaker feedback emanate from somewhere amidst the crowd. The villagers cover their ears, many yelping from the unexpected screech.

"You know what would help the village more?"

The feminine voice follows a raised arm with a radio receiver. It emerges from the back of the crowd as the villagers begin forming a path with electrified whispers.

"Not pretending like anyone who has a problem with the way things are done is a traitor."

Gasps break out from all around again. The faces of the aged council members behind the Elder grow pale, save for one, which lights up.

"Kanoa! You've returned?" the Elder blurts.

Towering above the crowd with an invisible radiance, she stands with one hand on her hip and the other raised pointing towards the podium, the receiver having been traded for her mace.

"I sure did. And this welcome home party sure is something."

The Elder takes a look at the faces staring expectantly back at him and straightens himself out, albeit gritting his teeth.

"Well, you shouldn't have come crawling back! If you're not here to turn yourself in, then why did you return?"

"Like you said, it's because of my _heinous_ transmitter over there- and it definitely came in handy. I've heard everything you and your goons said in the last day. I especially enjoyed the part where you coughed up the plan to frame Rig, Spirit, and I for the Grimm attacks."

The Elder points at her. "You spied on our conversations! Your confession proves precisely the point I was making earlier!"

"Because I knew you would be doing exactly this!" Kanoa argues. She gestures her palms outward, "Elder, how many secrets and secret meetings are you going to hold from everyone? Why is it that if someone wants to question an old tradition or try something new, they'd be shamed for not keeping order?"

"There's nothing 'secret' about them. It's our job to gather as the wisest members of the clan to-"

"Wisest my shapely be-hind," Kanoa laughs, rolling her eyes, "You just think that being in power means keeping everyone as ignorant as you."

"As opposed to endangering everyone?"

"As opposed to knowing the truth and keeping it all to yourself like a child? All I'm asking you for is an explanation. Earlier, you said Rig, Spirit, and I endangered the whole village, just like how you always tell me my inventions are going to agitate the Grimm. How does any of that work?"

"It just is, as our fathers and mothers before us have warned."

"But _how_? Do you even know their formal reasons for why we have these traditions? Or are you making all these bold claims without the proof up front to back it up?"

The Elder goes quiet. His eyes dart around the crowd as he resists the urge to turn to one of the other council members. The silence slowly infects Vivica's atmosphere with more unease, as prideful expressions are now replaced with anxious stares.

Somewhere in the distance, a loud rustling ekes its way into everyone's attention. Growing louder by the second, the sound peaks when the treeline parts open and the shapes of Rig and Spirit come flying out, following a distended hookshot. The duo plummet towards the center of the crowd as the villagers scramble to clear some space before they cushion their landing at the last second with a gravity rush.

"Gather everyone! There's-!" Spirit stops himself short once he sees the entire village staring back at him.

"Great- this makes things less confusing!" Rig waves his hands around madly, "EVERYBODY RUN!"

"You two again!" The Elder yells.

"Don't you see what this means?" Kanoa says, casting a relieved smile right behind her towards Rig and Spirit, "Even _they_ didn't abandon us!"

"Silence, Kanoa!" The Elder shifts full focus onto the outsiders, "You two have no idea as to how much trouble you've caused, do you?!"

"Trouble? Wha-?" Spirit shakes his head, "Trouble is _coming_ to us! There's a huge bandit raiding party that's going to come storming through here soon!"

The villagers' shrill voices quiver, their faces twisting into those of abject terror and utter confusion. Before everyone can scatter like roaches from an uncovered nest, the Elder bashes his hand against the podium with a resounding _whack_.

"Silence! Look at you two, coming here now with your petty lies! You're just looking to pillage our belongings after starting a panic, is that it?! That's just like you outsiders, we won't be fooled!"

"What are you talking about?!" Spirit yells, pointing towards the forest Rig and him just came out of, "Didn't you hear what I said- there's a raiding party out to get us!"

"The _disrespect_! How dare you speak to an Elder like that?! And did you say 'us'?"

"You, us, this whole town! We're all in the same boat to the people with the torches!"

The Elder puts on a face of pure revilement, "Are you saying that you led them all the way here?"

"What?!" Spirit yells and starts stomping off towards the podium, "We came all the way back to warn you!"

"And destroy our village in the process?"

Spirit's mouth twitches, "You-wha-"

Before he can say another word and take another step, a hand pulls him back. Spirit turns around to see Rig's stern face.

"He won't listen to us. It's not worth getting angry," Rig says coldly.

"Get off me, Rig!" Spirit yelps and smacks his friend's arm off him. He gives Rig a cold, angry glance.

"Spirit, what's wrong?" Rig asks, eyes quivering.

"Back off, Rig! We don't have time for this!"

"I believe you," Kanoa interrupts, coming up to them, "For all that's worth," she adds, staring Spirit down. Continuing, she turns back to the Elder, "Either way, all this panic is bound to attract Grimm for sure."

One of the councilmembers steps up to the podium beside the Elder.

"How about we strike a deal?" he asks, looking over to his superior.

Kanoa, Rig, and Spirit's faces brighten as they recognize the farmer's laid-back countenance. The Elder's face twists before he begrudgingly nods over to his subordinate, who continues.

"Given all the chaos that's been happening, the safest option seems to be to evacuate the village."

Kanoa clenches a trembling fist with determination as Rig smiles.

Before the Elder can react however, the farmer adds, "But- if Kanoa and the outsiders are lying, we will banish them from Vivica."

Those final words ring in Kanoa's ears, and her hand goes limp as she looks away. Rig gulps while Spirit merely stews in his frustration.

The Elder loosens up, scratching his beard as a smile slowly sneaks onto his face, "Alright then. My dear citizens, you've heard it with your own ears. If it turns out that they're making a mockery of us again, they're willing to accept the _righteous_ consequences," he narrows his eyes, looking at Kanoa, "Isn't that right?"

Without faltering, she gazes up from the ground, and, with her chin held high, proclaims, "If those are the stakes to save my village, I'll gladly accept."

The crowd murmurs in awe as they watch her stand defiantly beside Rig and Spirit.

"All right then, we'll keep our end of the bargain," the farmer begins, "Outsiders, you'll be responsible for keeping watch over the village.

"Of course!" Rig pipes in, "We'll defend it no matter what!"

Spirit gives him a dirty look.

"You'd do well to honor your promises then," the farmer responds, "And Kanoa, you'll be responsible for the evacuation procedure, considering this situation is your burden."

"Fine. I have something to show you all anyways," she says to the crowd, and walks up to the podium, snatching her radio from the Elder, "Everyone, go grab whatever you can carry!"

The villagers start to rush back to their homes as Kanoa hands Rig her radio receiver, clasping her other hand over his forearm.

"If you guys need help or the coast is clear, you better call me, alright?"

"You're not going to question the bandit thing?" Spirit murmurs from the side.

She turns to him, "I already said I believed you," then looks back at Rig with an earnest expression, "Take care of yourselves."

"Yes ma'am!" Rig salutes enthusiastically before she runs off.

As Kanoa fades into the distance, Rig and Spirit notice that the Elders also slipped away, leaving the two of them alone in the charred square.

"Spirit, I-"

"Let's get some rest at Kanoa's place," Spirit replies, walking off. "Could probably find some tools to repair my hookshot there, too."

Rig neither responds nor begins following. Spirit stops.

"Don't worry, Rig. Kanoa's even smarter than I thought."

"Huh?"

"I have a sneaking feeling I know where Kanoa's going to take everyone. That's why I'm telling you not to worry about her. Come on."

Spirit continues his walk away. Rig lowers his head, whispering to himself.

"That's not who I'm worried about..."

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

"And… _there!"_

Spirit puts strength into the last word as he makes a hard twist with the screwdriver in one hand. In the other hand, the broken hookshot makes a _click_ as the small, exposed gears are reset back into place. Spirit slaps the cover down before slipping the hookshot back onto his arm and immediately checks the workshop window. Craning his neck to once more be reassured that the rumbling in the room is merely some hidden gadget Kanoa crammed into a high-up shelf rather than the distant rumbling of footsteps, he turns back to his equipment.

"Now let's see," he says, raising his weapon in front of him.

Extending his fingers, the hook shoots out and punctures the wall in front of him. Spirit pulls his fingers back into a fist, triggering the hook to swoosh back. As it returns to its metal housing, the gears sputter and tick. He tries extending his fingers again, but nothing happens.

"Agh! Stupid piece of…" Spirit rests his elbows against Kanoa's workbench as he rubs at his face. He slaps the palms of his hands against the desk. "Screw this. Break time."

Spirit gets up, walking past the various contraptions lying around the workshop. A few of them catch his eye again as he exits. The most notable of them looks similar to an old, Atlesian turret, save for the fact that the turret "gun" is a filed-down pipe and the base is a repurposed trash can. He picks up a worn out magazine laid atop the off-brand device, titled: "Atlesian Autonomous Weapons Weekly."

Spirit places the magazine back where he found it, rubbing its dust off his fingers against his dark blue robe top. He passes through the hallway, briefly glancing at the door leading into the only unexplored room in the entire house before continuing his walk.

Beyond the window netting nearby, the familiar chirps of crickets in the ring throughout the air. Moving his face close to the window, Spirit stares towards the forest for the slightest hint of unusual movement or lighting. As his eyes jump between the trees and the sky, his mind too, jumps between dread and serenity. It seems like no matter where he and Rig travel, the stars still keep their twinkling allure. It's one of the few things Spirit is glad didn't change, even as far as the distance between Vacuo and Vivica.

A small creak from behind makes Spirit spin around. He raises his functional hookshot towards the doorway and freezes only a fingerflick from firing.

"Don't shoot!" Rig raises his arms up. "I'm unarmed!"

"Rig," Spirit sighs as he lowers his aim, "You're up already? It's barely been an hour."

"I thought about keeping my nap ultra short since, you know, you always fall asleep when I'm not awake."

Rig grins as he notices Spirit trying to hide his pinkening face by looking back towards the window.

"How's your hookshot?" Rig asks, changing the subject.

"Oh, right," Spirit snaps his attention back to his equipment, "I couldn't fix it with what was lying around Kanoa's workshop. There was some interesting stuff I found in there, though."

Rig yawns, "Yeah? Like what?"

"All I could tell was that there's a large metal fishing net, some rope and chains. Everything else looks like something straight out of Atlas's junkyard."

"That sounds pretty awesome!"

"Eh," Spirit shrugs, "Anyways, I'll try fixing the hookshot with some power tools later while you're not asleep. Didn't want to wake you up earlier."

"Aww, thanks bud! Good luck!" Rig looks around, "By the way, you know where I can get some water?"

Spirit points to a nearby cabinet, "I remember seeing Kanoa pull out a water jug over there, but she drinks straight from it."

"Cool!"

Rig makes a beeline straight for the cabinet. As soon as he finds the large jug, he immediately opens the top and starts chugging down. When he's done, the first thing he sees is Spirit's shocked face.

"What? It's just water."

"Did you not hear me? I said she drinks straight from it."

"It's fine! I'll rinse it later."

"But you're drinking _right_ after her."

Rig grins again, "You still scared of getting cooties?"

"Never mind," Spirit shakes his head as he walks towards the door, "I'll keep working on my hookshot. You keep watch for the bandits this time."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Rig salutes, spilling some water out of the jug still in his hands.

Spirit walks back through the hallway, stopping yet again by the unexplored door. Involuntarily, he places his hand over the doorknob, feeling a familiar sensation as he turns it.

It clicks.

The first thing Spirit does is flick on the light switch. The second is immediately go into a coughing fit. Forgotten particles fly everywhere before he can take two steps into the room, making his skin itch as he waves a hand in front of his face. Once the dust settles down, Spirit gets his first good look of the dim room. Dull, gray file cabinets line the far walls, surrounded by bookshelves filled with a collection of titles far more vast than Kanoa's. As his eyes scan the cabinets, they catch the various labels.

 _Council Agendas_

 _Town Expenses_

 _Family Registry_

The last cabinet strikes him- especially seeing as how it's the only one secured by a lock. Just as he kneels by it, footsteps come from the doorway.

"Spirit, are you ok? I heard you coughing back there and-?"

A silence hangs between the two as Spirit turns to him. Rig's face twists up.

"It's Kanoa's grandfather's room," Spirit explains.

"I figured that, but why are you in here?"

"For answers," Spirit turns back to the filing cabinets. "If there's any place that can give us a glimpse as to what's going on in Vivica, it's here. I think the locks on these cabinets tell us that."

"Really? Because I think they tell us we shouldn't be snooping around here," Rig says, still standing by the doorway. "Kanoa probably left this room alone for a reason."

"And it's the same reason we're in it now. Rig, I'm not going to have a moral debate with you on this, especially with the dirty tricks that old fart tried to pull on us earlier."

"But you want me to crack the lock, right?"

"Yes, I do. The one labelled, 'Family Registry'."

"No, Spirit."

Spirit sits quietly. He gets up, walking towards Rig until they're separated by only a few inches.

"Rig. I'm starting to think the reason we had such a hard time finding Nima's village was because this is it. But the only place and chance to confirm that guess is here and now."

He doesn't respond. Spirit places both hands on Rig's shoulders.

"Rig, please. I'm begging you. This is one of our best chances to put it all to rest."

Rig leaves the room.

"Wait- Rig-"

A few moments later he returns, axe in hand. With a quiet and summary motion, Rig raises the axe and brings it down. Spirit sees the dust motes in the air around them plunge downwards before the lock splinters off with a pained clank.

"We don't tell Kanoa about this," Rig says as he looks down at his handiwork.

"Thanks, Rig."

He reaches a hand out for Rig's shoulder again, but Rig moves away. Spirit kneels back down, sifting through numerous manilla folders.

 _Maraco Household_

 _Davlin Household_

 _Yuei Household_

 _Riena Household_

One of the names under the last file grabs his attention.

"Riena," Spirit mumbles to himself, "Wasn't that Nima's family name?"

"I think so?" Rig half-answers, now looking over Spirit's shoulder.

* * *

 ** _xxxx_**

 _Riena Household_

 _STATUS: **EVICTED**_

 _REASON: UNDERMINED AUTHORITY, BROKE TRADITION_

 ** _xxxx_**

 _M. Ardavin Riena  
_

 _Traits: Claws_

 _STATUS:_ _SUPPRESSED_ ** _EVICTED_**

 ** _xxxx_**

 _F. Llynelle Riena_

 _Traits: Pointed Ears_

 _STATUS:_ _SUPPRESSED_ ** _EVICTED_**

 ** _xxxx_**

 _M. Magar Riena_

 _Traits: Tail_

 _STATUS:_ _SUPPRESSED_ ** _EVICTED_**

 ** _xxxx_**

 _F. Lachnima Riena_

 _Traits: Spots, Tail, Furred Extremities  
_

 _STATUS: UNKNOWN_

 ** _xxxx_**

* * *

"'Suppressed'? 'Evicted'?" Spirit asks in a louder voice, "And what does 'Unknown' mean?"

Rig takes a different folder out and flips through.

"'Traits: Wings. Status: Evicted. Reason: Traits deemed unsuppressable by Elder Haheo. Traits: None. Status: Suppressed.'"

"R-Rig. Hold on a sec. Where's Nima?"

Rig looks over at the folder in Spirit's hands, "Lach- _nima_?" he trails off.

Spirit freezes for a moment, only to be set in motion as they start rapidly going through the other manilla folders.

"'Rula Man, Traits: Floppy Ears, Status: Suppressed,'" Rig reads.

"'Garith Rane, Traits: Hooves, Mane, Status: Evicted. Reason: Traits deemed unsuppressable by Elder Haheo,'" Spirit responds.

"'Suppressed.'"

"'Evicted, Unsuppressable,'" Spirit stops after.

"'Suppressed,'" Rig says, "'Evicted. Evicted. Evicted.'"

A shuffle of papers from his side makes Rig turn his head. When he looks at his partner, he realizes the papers and the folder Spirit was holding onto are now on the ground in one big mess.

Spirit gets up and turns for the door.

"Where are you going?" Rig asks.

Spirit keeps moving. Rig grabs at his arm, only to have his friend's sleeve slip through his hand. He rushes up, slipping between the open doorway and Spirit.

Spirit stops.

"Move, Rig."

"No."

Spirit's voice lowers into a whisper as he narrows his eyes, "What?"

"I don't like that look on your face."

"I don't care what you want my face to look like, get out of my way."

"What are you going to do if I do?"

"What do you care?"

"Spirit."

For a moment, Spirit hesitates. He still speaks.

"I'm leaving. This place can burn to the ground."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. They did this to themselves. Why is that our problem?"

"Because it'll be Kanoa's problem."

They stand in front of each other, motionless for one second. In the next, Spirit jabs at Rig's face. Though Rig reflexively turns his head, he doesn't budge, and only the look in his eyes changes. Whether that look says, "try again" or "try me," Spirit isn't sure how to read it. Instead, he grits his teeth.

"Move _out_ of the way!"

"We're not leaving," Blood trickles down the left corner of Rig's mouth. "We made a promise to Kanoa."

"Why?! So we can defend this dump?! So that more Faunus like Nima can be mutilated?! So that she can become a part of it?! How do we know everyone's not already a part of it?! How do we know _Kanoa_ isn't?!"

"Spirit. If you leave now, I'm not coming with you."

Spirit storms back to the far wall of the room. With both arms, he pulls down the filing cabinets, screaming loud enough to make the walls shake and turn his face red. When he's done, both of his fists are balled up in front of himself. His arms fall to his sides as he glares back at Rig.

"You're just a guilty piece of Atlesian garbage."

"Huh?"

"I should've known," Spirit rambles on, his hands going into the same prayer-like fashion he uses for his explanations, "I should've known. You probably never liked Faunus in the first place, did you?"

Spirit points at Rig. "You and that stupid fake attitude of yours, all being nice to everyone without actually meaning it! That's why you feel bad and that's why you want us to stick around here and protect these monsters!"

"You're not thinking straight-"

" _I'm_ not thinking straight?! No, no, no, no, Rig!" Spirit marches towards Rig, finger still raised, " _You're_ not thinking straight, understand?! All of this is your fault! It's Atlas's fault! People like you make others treat people like Nima and Flora like trash! Like none of them even mattered!"

"It's not your fault, Spirit."

Spirit's face dissolves from anger, tightening into shock. He clears out his throat as he tries to rebuild his rage, failing miserably.

"This is where I came from all over again!" Spirit yells, "Traditions like these just make people miserable! They spoonfeed you cultish hogwash about what to think and how to feel about the whole world! You believe in something that's supposed to protect you so much that you end up forgetting everything else! And look at where it's gotten us! Look at what happened to Nima!"

Spirit's eyes widen more as he runs both hands against his hair, "Nima. All this time, she must have been looking for this village. What would she have done if she found out about all this and we weren't around? This miserable sect treated her family like trash. The whole place should just burn to the ground!"

Spirit can't find anything else to knock to the floor. He walks over the family documents instead, crunching them under his feet as he hyperventilates.

"Spirit, you need to stop blaming yourself."

"Blaming... myself?" His glare devolves, "Yeah. Yeah, that's it. This is all my fault. I'm the good-for-nothing that made things this way. I treated Nima like trash when she could have opened up more. And you and Flora too, like none of you even mattered. I was the leader and I didn't learn a SINGLE THING ALL THAT TIME!"

Spirit cracks the old wall as he smashes his fist against it. He drops to his knees, sobs now becoming audible.

"Rig. Every single memory I've had about the old days when things were so much simpler, all I can remember is just how much of an awful person I was to everyone else. And every time I remember that in the present, I turn back into my old self." Tears begin to obscure his vision. "I hate it. I hate myself so much, Rig. If there was anyone on our team who should've died at Beacon, it should have been-"

"Stop," Rig finally moves from the doorway and towards Spirit, "Nobody deserves to die, including you. You said and did some hurtful things to a lot of people, sure. But you're not helping anyone by hurting yourself."

"But I was the _leader_ , Rig."

"So?" Rig sits down next to him, "Making a mistake doesn't matter. It's learning from one that counts. If not for yourself, then at least for the people you hurt. Giving up won't bring them back and continuing won't either. But at the very least, you can give yourself some peace."

"But how?"

"By staying here. You're protecting your last chance to feel better. And maybe even make things better here, too."

Spirit sniffles as his eyes go back to the ground, "We have to tell everyone about this, Rig. Including Kanoa."

"Ok."

He stares at Rig, expecting something more. A condition. An exception. Anything.

But nothing else comes.

"Rig…" Spirit's face contorts, "Rig, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Rig. I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright," Rig wraps his arm around Spirit's back, "You're not a bad guy. Besides, 'Atlesian garbage' is one of the nicer ones I've heard."

Spirit laughs. He wipes his eyes off with the side of his right robe sleeve, knuckles red from punching the wall.

"You idiot..."

One of the files catches Rig's eyes. He lifts it up, showing it to Spirit.

Spirit frowns, "Should we…?"

"No," Rig places it back down, "Let's wait until after. For now, just get some sleep."

Spirit nods. He gets up, stopping by the doorway.

"Thank you, Rig."

"Thanks, me!" Rig says before Spirit walks away. He turns back to the mess of papers, folders, and cabinets in front of him.

Rig starts by putting the cabinets back in place.

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

"Spirit, wake up."

Spirit groans, turning on his side. His body is immobilized by the warmth and coziness.

"Spirit, they're here!"

It takes a few seconds for him to process who "they" are. Once he does, he shoots up from the sofa, pushing off the blanket Rig evidently had placed on him. As his bloodshot eyes refocus in the dark, Rig's figure becomes clear. Rope dangles over one of his shoulders and his clothes are covered in sawdust.

"Already?! Wait, how long was I out for?!"

"An hour, I think," Rig replies, "You see those lights in the forest? The bandits haven't cleared it yet, but we don't have much time."

"Rig, what are we supposed to do?!" Spirit falls off the couch before he quickly gets to his feet, "One of my hookshots doesn't even work! We're not ready!"

"Yes we are," Rig grins, "Don't worry, you're gonna love this next part."

Spirit opens his mouth, but no words come out. He sighs instead.

"Alright," Spirit nods, "You take the lead."

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**


	7. Vol 1 Ch 7 - Viva Vivica! (Part II)

Dozens of flickering orange torches bob through the trees amid the blueish dark of evening. Emerging from the forest, the army of men begins to fan out around one side of the village before their leader raises his forked blades, reflecting the brilliant flames like a beacon, stopping them.

Before them lies the entirety of Vivica, silent and lightless in the night, lacking a single stir that would indicate life.

"So uh, Boss?" A bandit turns to their superior, "What're we waiting for?"

"I don't like the look of this," he says, then pointing a finger, "You three- go investigate."

They walk off with their torches leading the way, feet crunching over a trampled sandy path. The tile roofs of variously shaped wooden buildings loom over the trio's heads, putting them in even thicker darkness by blocking out the moonlight. This lack of light is bolstered by the fact that even this deep into the village, there's not a trace of motion nor sound.

One of the scouts speaks, "What's with this dump? It's so empty it's creepy."

"And half the buildings are already wrecked," the second one pipes in, "What happened here?"

The third bandit to their right shakes his head, "Maybe we should grab something to eat while we're at it. Some numbskull cleared out our entire food storage during the fire."

"No," the first scout sternly replies, "We're not wasting everyone else's time. Besides, I'm pretty sure the others would have knives to our throats before we'd finish our food."

"Ugh, I'm starving! I bet those kids took our dinner!" The third bandit strangles the air as if there was a throat in front of him, "When I get my hands on them, I'll-!"

Something moves from above, casting a brief shadow as it glides over. Right after, a large, dark blur falls from the sky, pinning two of the bandits. Following a faint click, a loud crackle rings out as white sparks ensnare them, causing them to convulse and black out. The remaining scout turns his head, only to be greeted around a corner wall by Rig's face up-close and the chirpy phrase:

"Hiya!"

Rig smacks him with the glowing green flat side of his double-sided axe, knocking him out with a clang. Without wasting a moment, the boy jumps back up onto the building he came from.

"Hey, what's taking those scouts so long?"

Rig hears the angry mutter come from the distance as he quickly clicks the generator off. He reels the net like a fishing line back to himself before throwing it over his shoulder, picking the generator up under his arm, and leaping back onto Kanoa's rooftop. Rig's earpiece rings.

"Was that your whole plan?" Spirit asks his friend as he balances on a platform behind the remains of a water tower strut.

"Not entirely," Rig says as he lands, setting the generator back down, "Watch and learn."

They hush as a second group of bandits makes a commotion in finding their fallen allies. One of the bandits points forward.

"I'll check on ahead!" he yells before rushing off.

A few feet later, the pioneering bandit feels his leg snag a stiff line. He trips over it, sensing a large mass fly over his head back and forth in a pendular motion. The bandit raises his head.

"What-?"

Just as the bandit sees the log, Rig lands on top of it from above, stradling it.

" _Wood_ you like a tour?!"

Rig yells as he swings both his arms behind him, sending both him and the log flying straight towards the bandit with a gravity rush. The bandit is smashed out of the way before the log knocks the three others behind him over like bowling pins. Rig performs an aerial dismount just as the log snaps off its rope, flying in an arc out of the village.

"Stop being such a provoca _tour_ ," Spirit says as Rig lands by him.

"Spirit."

"Yeah?"

"How about you leave the puns to me, eh buddy?"

"Yeah..."

In the distance, the bandit leader squints his eyes, hearing the vague ruckus from where the scouts headed. A large object enters his line of sight as one of his inferiors walks up beside him.

"Is that a-?"

The log bashes into him and every bandit behind him into the forest with an unceremonious _THWOMP_. As the debris clears, the leader is uncertain whether its the injured bandits or their Auras squealing in agony as they disappear into the trees. He grits his teeth.

"That's it! CHAAAARGE!"

The bandits roar as they flood the streets, their footsteps emulating thunderous waterfalls. Rig grins.

"Showtime! Remember the plan?!"

"Get 'em, Rig."

A couple of meters into the village, bandits here and there slip over exposed book covers and fall. Rig leaps at a stunned group of bandits, quickly bashing one into the air and back into the ground, followed by two more against a house wall with his axe.

Spirit watches over Vivica's buildings as he floats on a platform. As he sees another group of bandits in a nearby street recollect themselves, he speaks into his Scroll.

"Two streets to your left," he communicates to Rig, "Four bandits."

"Got it!"

Following his partner's instructions, Rig jumps over the rooftops and into the next scene of battle. The process repeats itself, sending confused chatter into the air as the bandits wildly wave their torches.

"The roofs! Watch the roofs!"

"How many of them are there?!"

"Agh! Help-!"

"Watch where you step, you fools!" their leader shouts as he feels his foot press against rope.

He looks to his front just as another rope log comes hurtling towards him. By reflex, the bandit leader raises his bladed tuning fork in front of him, halving the lumber. As the log passes by him, the tuning fork vibrates from the impact. The fork's frequency increases to the point that its blades blur, until suddenly, the log explodes into splinters.

The bandit leader swings his weapon by his side, a glare on his face as wooden pieces fall all around him.

"You know what?! Let's just burn 'em out!"

"Burn 'em out!" one bandit yells to the others.

"Burn 'em out!" another repeats.

"Don't burn 'em…" Rig murmurs under his breath.

"Burn 'em out! Burn 'em out! Burn 'em out!"

The new war chant waves across what remains of the bandit ranks to a deafening degree. Spirit sees one of the bandits lower his torch towards the wooden wall of a home. He jumps off his platform, using his hookshot to propel himself towards the bandit. As he glides, Spirit smashes his fist against the side of the bandit's face, knocking him out cold. He kicks the torch away.

"Spirit!" Rig shouts over his Scroll, "Where do I go next?"

"Uh… I had to hop off my platform. You're kinda on your own over there, sorry."

"Aww, I liked that plan- oh well!" Rig says, then jumps down onto the main road to face several bandits.

Spirit sees another building from across the street go ablaze. He forms another platform to climb up a rooftop, only to feel his leg tugged on as he leaps. Spirit turns around, meeting the reddened face of a bandit.

"Where do you think you're going, punk?!" the bandit yells as he slams Spirit into the ground.

Rolling onto his back, Spirit throws his fist at the bandit's face as he sits up. Though the bandit's head turns to the side, he sneers as Spirit struggles to free himself from the grip on his ankle.

"I'm gonna tenderize your face into a pulp!" the bandit growls as he raises a meathammer.

By reflex, Spirit raises both his arms in an x-formation in front of him, just in time to block the brutish blows. With each heavy hit, he can hear the clashing warp of his Aura weaken. Spirit grabs onto the bandit's hammer arm with one hand, restraining him. The bandit grins, pressing down on Spirit's left leg with his knee as he wraps the fingers of his free hand around the boy's throat. Two more bandits stand by him, sneering as they witness the entire spectacle.

"Rig…" Spirit coughs out, using his other hand to grab at the bandit's choking arm.

As air fails to enter his windpipe, Spirit can feel the strength degrade from the hand stopping the meathammer. In one last, desperate push, he lets go of the bandit's choking arm and instead moves his hand towards his foe's head. His eyes widen as they strain to maintain consciousness while he pushes against the laughing face, until…

 _WHACK!_

A flat object like a brick thwacks into the back of the bandit's head, causing him to limply fall to the side. Once the bandit's grip on both the meathammer and Spirit's neck vanishes, Spirit scrambles backwards, vision still blurry. The other two bandits approach him, causing Spirit to raise his hand forward. This time, he could see what smacked the second bandit's head more clearly:

His platform.

In awe, the third bandit stares at the floating enigma. Spirit swings his arm to the side during this moment of hesitation, knocking the third bandit unconscious by bashing the invader's skull between the platform and the wall.

"Spirit! Are you ok?!"

Rig leaps off a nearby rooftop, helping his partner up to his feet. He follows Spirit's gaze, seeing the stationary platform he always uses to position himself drift slowly back towards them.

"I didn't know you could make them move," Rig says.

"Neither did I," Spirit lowers his hand, stopping the platform in front of himself, "Let's get a better view of what's going on."

They swiftly climb up the roof right beside them, taking a quick glance at Vivica. A quarter of the buildings are engulfed in flames, while another quarter are occupied by looters.

"So uh… I don't think we're saving Vivica in one piece," Spirit says.

Rig's jaw visibly clenches before he speaks, "I hate being a liar."

"Then let's save what we can now." Spirit smirks at him, "You're not helping anyone by hurting yourself, remember?"

Rig's head perks up, "Hey, that was my line!"

"Uh, yeah, Rig. I mean, that was the…" Spirit shakes his head, "Never mind. _Point_ is, we're going straight for tuning-fork guy."

"What's the plan?"

"Don't worry," Spirit summons a platform, "you're gonna love this next part."

"That's my line, too!"

"Just get on the platform, Rig."

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

"Boss," a bandit cries as he runs back to their leader, panting, "We've surveyed the area!"

The bandit leader stands at the entranceway of an untouched house with two of his cronies, holding a small vase in one hand, "What's our status report?"

"Well uh, we found a lot of wood so far! But, beyond that… not so much."

"Yes, I know there's wood here. What about our manpower?"

"Uh… less?"

The leader growls, clenching the vase, "What about _theirs_?"

"So um, so far, it looks like it's just the two kids from before!"

The vase shatters in his grip as he raises his tuning fork, causing the scout to cower.

"W-wait! That's why I just said _so far_ , Boss! There's probably- no, there's _definitely_ more from the shadows helping them out!" The scout trips and falls onto his rear, raising an arm in front of himself, "We'll get them, I swear! It'll be easier to see them when we light up the whole place!"

"I'm killing those kids myself," the leader says as he steps forward, "Burn everything else down and tend to the wounded. There's nothing for us here in these pathetic little shacks."

"Y-yes, Boss!" the lesser bandit salutes as he jumps to his feet.

As the leader turns his head, he immediately catches the sight of Rig's floating shadow in the distance. He whistles with a finger, summoning a small twister beneath him and taking off towards the boys' position just as Rig pushes his feet off Spirit's platform with a gravity rush.

The two collide at mach speed, Rig's axe jamming into the space between the leader's forked blades. Strengthened by the tuning fork's vibrations, the impact's resounding wave blasts any bandits in a five yard radius off their feet.

"And here I was, thinking I'd have to chop another log," the leader grins as they fall, "Nice of you to rush into your coffin like this."

Rig smiles back, "You guys sure came a long way to get your butts kicked!"

As soon as their feet touch the ground, Rig gravity rushes, wringing his weapon free and opening just enough leeway to bash the leader with the trigger-guard pommel of his battle axe. As the leader stumbles, a quartet of bandits charges past him.

Rig uses the pommel again in uppercutting the first bandit's chin, then brings the flat end of the head of his axe onto a second one's head on the left. As a third tries to attack from the right, Rig spins around to his left and comes most of a rotation through to send the bandit flying with a flat-side smack to the face. Right after, a fourth bandit runs up behind Rig, who then thrusts the long handle of the axe down between his side and arm to catch the assailant in the stomach. Rig then promptly leaps to spin and finish the bandit off with an elbow to the face.

With the four bandits dispatched, Rig turns his attention back to the bandit leader, who by now is coming at him with a column of flame caught in a small cyclone in front of him. Rig reaches into his pockets and tosses Slack Dust through the inferno, causing the dispersed crystals to crackle like firecrackers before exploding in front of the leader's face. After the smoke quickly settles, Rig sees the bandit leader covered in small flames eating away at his Aura.

The smile on the leader's face remains, as he whistles and reignites a cyclone using the fire on his body, sending it hurtling towards Rig. Footsteps from behind grab Rig's attention as he spins his axe over his head and sends two bandits flying in one swing. Mid-spin, Rig switches his axe into shield mode just in time to block the flame blast from behind. Three more bandits charge as Rig raises his large shield to his front. With a gravity rush, he plows through all three men at once, knocking them off into the sides of burning walls.

Rig hops onto the roof to his left just before a flame can graze his spine. The leader does the same, save for the fact that his own rooftop is in the middle of burning down.

"Have to give it to you kid, you've got some skill," the leader says, "You'd make a pretty good raider if you gave it a chance."

"Sorry, but I've got butts to kick. Yours for one," Rig replies, keeping his axe to his front.

"Shoot," he cackles, "Thought you'd be dumb enough to say yes so I could get close and lob your head right off," the leader takes up his weapon with both hands, "Worth a shot!"

He leaps toward Rig just as the rooftop he stands on caves in. Despite Rig's block, the extra power in the leader's swing dazes the boy momentarily. The leader gets two good slices into Rig's front and side, notching gashes into the flowing plasma of his Aura. Spirit swoops by the side of the roof, kicking off the bandits trying to climb up. He sends a platform flying towards the side of the leader's head before he could smash Rig away with a third attack, causing the king of thieves to lose his footing.

"Were you taking another nap?" Rig asks as he gets back into a combat stance.

"I was securing something important while you two were busy playing around," Spirit says, "It's the one thing we absolutely had to save in the village."

"It's the _only_ thing you'll get to save!" the leader laughs, grabbing Spirit and Rig's attention. "Look at everything around you burn. I want the last thing for you boys to remember is that this is all your fault!"

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

Cold beads of sweat roll down Kanoa's forehead. Her legs have already begun to slightly ache by the time the disgruntled whines behind her grow audible. Over the past hour or so of travel, she's gotten just a tad tired, worsened by the fact that walking with the villagers makes the trek all the more tedious and slow. The trees in this part of the forest are densely packed, offering no line of sight beyond their large wood bodies and forcing the Vivicans to stick to the only trail in front of them.

"Are we there yet?" one of the younger male voices in the crowd behind her asks.

"Where are you taking us?" another older female adds.

"It's just a little bit further, don't worry," Kanoa replies, continuing her walk with a torch in hand. She turns her head and smiles, "Besides, a walk like this once in a while hasn't killed anyone."

A few more groans escape the villagers. The Elder scoffs.

"Are you sure you're just not lost, Kanoa?" he asks from the side.

Kanoa's smile melts into a frown. She picks up a pinecone.

"I know where I'm going," she says, doing her best not to turn back around, "You just stay quiet."

"I can't help but find that hard to believe, considering how long you've made us wander in the dark. Who knows what kind of dangers you could be leading us into?"

Kanoa covertly flicks the pinecone underfoot, landing it right in the Elder's path. He steps on it with a loud _CRUNCH_ and panics, waving his arms in the air and screaming, "Snake!"

The village gives him odd, pathetic looks as Kanoa snickers under her breath.

"I get that you're scared, but don't infect everyone else with it," Kanoa stops in her tracks, "Or the Grimm might… _GETCHA!"_

She jolts towards him with both hands out on her head like horns, to which he stumbles back.

A couple small children giggle at the sight. The Elder grits his teeth.

"I'll build a statue in your departure, you little wretch…" he whispers, just out of Kanoa's earshot.

The group carries on. As the trees start to break, the change in scenery fuels the Vivicans forward.

"This is it!" Kanoa says, hands on her hips as she looks at the broken radio tower.

Gasps erupt from the Vivicans as they stare up the forgotten relic, mouths agape. The Elder shoves his way through the crowd, face paled as he flares his teeth.

"When did you find this?! Was this your plan all along?!" he questions, aggressive specks of spit exiting his mouth.

Kanoa smirks, "Feeling a little guilty, are we?"

"Great Elder," one of the council members approaches him from behind and places a hand on his shoulder.

With all the strength he can muster, the Elder resets his expression. He watches as Kanoa steps in front of the Vivicans.

"People of Vivica," she begins, emulating the Elder's pompous tone, "What you see here is the culmination of decades of lies! To which, I hope you now intend to demand the answers to! We've been left in the dark about the outside world! So dark, that we are even blind to the cause of our blindness! How much longer will we stand being deceived?!"

"Nonsense," the Elder stands between her and the crowd, "What's your evidence that any of this is our doing?"

"Duh. It's obvious that someone destroyed this communication tower."

"What's obvious is the _fact_ that Grimm are attracted to communication signals, you slanderous traitor!"

"Oh, I see. It's funny you said that," she says, holding up her box set, "Because my radio's been transmitting this whole time."

The villagers stand in shock, and then confusion at the anticlimax of faint static and grunts coming through the other end.

"You would think," Kanoa continues, "That some Grimm would have at least _tried_ to do something to us this whole time, right?"

"So you've been intentionally endangering us this whole time for your little experiment?!" the Elder yells.

"My point is _exactly_ that there _is_ no danger!" she guffaws and points to the tower, "So now that we've gotten that little lie out of the way, it's clear that _someone_ must have done this with their own red-hot, dirty hands."

"Kanoa. I knew this day would come," the farmer steps in, "And that means you must have seen the old city. How did you manage to clear the Grimm out, though?"

The Vivicans share confused glances as the Elder and the other councilmen glare at the farmer. Kanoa cocks her head with a "Huh?" before a piercing realization makes her drop her radio and go bolting up the side of the radio tower. Her heart pounds well into her ears as she climbs, leaping a dozen feet at a time from beam to beam in pure panic.

"What have you done?! Were you in on this the whole time?!" the Elder grabs the farmer's arm, his voice echoing faintly in the background of Kanoa's adrenaline-blunted hearing.

"Something that should have been done a long time ago," the farmer responds and pulls himself out of the Elder's grip, "Us old men must reap what we've sown."

When Kanoa gets to the top, however, she's greeted by a wide view of the ruined city, desolate streets and crumbled buildings alike in their sheer lack of Grimm presence.

She relaxes just a little, or at least enough to keep up an act of cool before she tenses right back up at the sight of something on the horizon. A hill-sized mound of living, livid pitch vaguely contorted into the shape of an elk is trundling off into the distance in the direction of Vivica. Only with the silent focus of a person whose mind is blank from fear does she realize the sensation of the metal bars beneath her reverberate with its every heaving step.

"What a behemoth…" she mouths.

At the thought of what direction it's heading, she dismounts from the top bar of the tower, hopping back down at top speed.

When she lands on the grass, Kanoa has only enough composure left in her to make a half-gassed smile and blurt, "Yep they're all gone!" to all her spectators before running up to the farmer heaving. The old man gives her an understanding look as he speaks first.

"I'll take care of everyone, you'll make it back faster if it's just you. Go help your friends."

"Thank you," she huffs, and then runs back over to the base of the tower.

She unclicks her mace and swings it ferociously, taking an arm-sized chunk out of one of the four standing support beams. The tower screeches as it starts falling over, whooshing through the air before crashing into the forest, levelling an entire lengthwise swath of treeline. Through the newly parted woods, the entire gathering of villagers can now see the ruins of the old city.

Without wasting any time, she grabs her radio set and jogs back over to the farmer, tossing it to him and sputtering "I'll signal when it's clear," before running off in the direction of the Behemoth and Vivica.

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

The standoff on one of the village roofs rips once more right into action.

The bandit leader spin-jumps over a flying platform, crashing his blade into Rig's last-minute shield. As the leader wails on Rig's shield, Spirit fires a hookshot at the platform the leader dodged, pulling himself forward as he pumps his fist towards the leader's face. The leader ducks, allowing Rig to shield bash him backwards as Spirit sidekicks him from behind, which sends him right into an axehead-lead gravity rush by Rig. Rig's attack catches the bandit's neck in the semicircular break between the two glowing axe blades, driving him briefly back and then down, pinning him to the hard tiles.

Struggling against the necklog of Rig's axe, he manages to let out a weak whistle, which causes two bandits to join the fray, hopping up from street level onto the roof. Rig rushes to stomp on his weapon-wielding arm, but it's too late, as the bandit leader manages to let out a tap with his tuning fork, causing the roof around them to cave in.

Spirit catches himself by the lip of the collapsing roof and immediately sends a platform shooting out to block one of the bandits that's come jumping down, catching him in the gut. Meanwhile, having freed his weapon from the roof, Rig switches into shield mode, thrusting his shield above his head in time to get knocked to one knee to bear the load of a pair of bandit boots crashing down onto him. With a vocal exhale, Rig heaves upwards with a gravity rush, launching himself and his unwitting passenger into the air.

The bandit leader turns his attention to Spirit, who's left hanging by his hookshot inside the building. The boy gives him a forced smile in the brief panic before the leader sends out a whistle wind, sending Spirit crashing through the remains of the roof in a pendulum motion and beyond.

For a moment, Rig sees Spirit fly up beside him, his Aura crackling with the same dark blue as his platforms.

"Hey! Your Aura's blue!" Rig says as he floats suspended in the air.

"Rig, as excited as I am about evolving my Semblance, now's not the time!" Spirit cries back, swooshing away with his hookshot after shooting a small platform in the air at two more leaping bandits with a swing of his other arm.

"Fine!" Rig hollers, curling into a cannonball to gravity rush in midair diagonally towards street level.

Just as Rig comes out of a flip and plants his feet on solid ground at street level, the bandit leader comes bursting through the collapsing wall of the house with a whistle wind.

"Stop running!" the leader roars.

"I'm not running, I'm dodging!" Rig chirps.

A sudden low growl drowns out the crackling flames and crumbling plaster. The two combatants in the street turn to the forest on their right to see red eyes peering from between the trees, almost as numerous as the stars above.

The growls hold, evolving into bombastic roars like bricks exploding from heat before the shadowy bodies of Grimm start to pounce out from the forest.

"GRIMM!" a nearby bandit shouts just as they flood the streets.

The bandit leader takes one glance at his men and with a piercing scream, yells, "You cowards!"

Ignoring the threats in his periphery to charge at Rig, the leader throws out a few rushed hits, only for Rig to absorb them using his shield before performing a brief crouch-jump to gravity rush up and backwards onto another roof. As the bandit leader struggles with an Ursa Major that charged up to him, Spirit hookshots up right beside Rig. With one heavy swing, the leader slices the Ursa's head off, making the beast disintegrate almost immediately.

"You hear that?!" Spirit yells, pausing the three of them to listen to the cries of men from the streets and houses of Vivica, "That's the sound of your raiding party being ripped apart! You should save what's left of your men and retreat!"

"It's adorable of you to talk business, kid," the bandit leader says, leaping onto their roof, "But _this_ is personal."

He resumes a series of successive strikes on Rig as Spirit hookshots away. The leader has just enough time to laugh as one of his strikes stays pressed into Rig's shield.

"So your friend decided _he'd_ retreat instead. Classic."

Rig doesn't respond, merely nodding knowingly to someone above the leader's head before thrusting upwards to disorient his opponent and send his arms and weapon upwards. In the next second, Spirit comes swinging around, hanging with a wide wire from one of his hookshots before encircling the bandit leader, who has no option to attack Rig but to follow through with the motion of a downward swing. His weapon bounces off Spirit's wire, twisting to hit himself flat in the face with the tuning fork's air-warping reverberation.

Temporarily incapacitated by the rebounded hit, the leader is unable to stop Spirit from completing more and more loops until he's caught tight in the metallic line like a fly in a spider web. Spirit pulls him higher into the air, hanging him like a target.

Rig's eyes narrow with cold and focused determination. Digging his heels into the flat roof surface, he lowers into rigid stance and readies his axe. Following through with a sustained acceleration gravity rush, Rig plunges forwards, up, and then down, bringing his axe crashing flat-side into the leader as Spirit slaps a switch on the mechanism of his hookshot to release the wire from his arm.

A sound that thunders like a cannonball makes even the Grimm freeze in place as the bandit leader careens into the ground, the ear-piercing screech from his shattering Aura ringing out as he's sent burrowing into the dirt. Rig grabs onto Spirit's leg in mid-air before weakly gravity rushing the two of them back onto the roof. The growls of Grimm rushing towards the loud crash makes Spirit shudder.

"Rig… he's-"

"Stop," Rig says, lying on the roof in a fetal position with his hands covering his ears.

"Screw this! I'm not getting paid enough to die here!" one of the bandits yells after witnessing the fate of their leader, "I'm outta here!"

Terrified by the sound of Rig's attack and overwhelmed by the ruthless beasts, the remaining bandits retreat back into the forest, tailed by the rest of the Grimm. Spirit and Rig stay stock-still behind smoke until they're all gone, leaving only the eerie crackling of fire burning wood all around them to fill Vivica's suffocating air.

"Rig! Spirit!"

The two of them hear a familiar yell coming from the distance.

"It's Kanoa!" Rig yells, jumping to his feet.

The two boys mount over the edge of the roof and land on the ground in time to greet their friend running up to them. Before an enthusiastic Rig or a surprised Spirit can get a word in, Kanoa starts shouting.

"Guys! I have to tell you something, there's a-" she coughs, "a-"

 _GWAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!_

Flocks of crows like dark droplets dart into the sky, fleeing from the forest. The ground around them rumbles as a large, cracked Grimm skull rises out of the forest to their right. Its red eyes are almost as big as the shattered moon that it grows to eclipse.

Kanoa yells, "It's a B-!"

"THE BEHEMOTH!" Rig shouts excitedly over her, whipping out his axe.

Spirit groans, "I need a vacation."

"As long as it's not a _Viv-acation_ ," Rig chirps.

Kanoa glares at the both of them for a solid three seconds before keeling over with a wheezing chuckle.

"You guys are something else."

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**


	8. Vol 1 Ch 8 - Viva Vivica! (Part III)

"RIIIIIG!"

Spirit zips just out of the shutting jaw of the stomping elk Behemoth, screaming as he surfs by on his platform.

"Keep distracting it, buddy!" Rig calls over his shoulder. Crouching, he turns back to the chart in progress in the dirt in front of him and Kanoa. "Ok, so then, we can use the fishing net to-"

There's a crude drawing of the town's layout, with Kanoa's house towards the far end circled and having various arrows going in and out of it.

Rig turns back to Kanoa, "So we can use the net to zap it and-"

"No! You've been using it wrong the whole time!" Kanoa groans, pressing her palm to her forehead.

"Huh?"

"The net wasn't meant to be-" she pauses.

Rig's face twists up in confusion, "Meant to be what?"

Kanoa's eyes light up, "Wait- that's actually brilliant!

"Yeah, for sure!" Rig nods enthusiastically.

"And here I thought it was only going to be useful for fishing!"

"GUYS!" Spirit yells, narrowly ducking under one of the massive swinging horns of the Behemoth. His platform fizzles out beneath him, sending him flying forward at mach speed, "I'M DEAD!"

"Walk and talk!" Kanoa yells to Rig as she starts moving off.

"So you said there's fish?" Rig replies, following.

Spirit crashes into a rooftop, shattering the tiles as he lands. Forcing himself out of a daze, Spirit pushes off the roof just as the Behemoth charges straight through the house behind him. The Behemoth takes a necessary moment to change direction as it sees Spirit run into another house. It rushes again as Spirit hops out the window, narrowly missing him as it crushes a Vivican dwelling for a second time. Billowing smoke and flames block the Grimm's vision from its prey.

"Happy thoughts," Spirit whispers to himself between pants as he sneaks around alleyways, "Happy thoughts…" as he bumbles through a boulevard.

A loud screech from the Behemoth shakes the ground itself.

"Surviving thoughts!" Spirit screams as he starts dashing.

Within a couple steps, he makes it around a corner and winds up on the same street as Rig and Kanoa. Not too far off, they're standing and making frantic hand gestures.

"Guys!" Spirit yells as he runs up to them.

"Spirit, why aren't you distracting the Behemoth?" Kanoa asks.

"Because I nearly died!" After about a second, Spirit starts panickedly looking around to find the gargantuan beast, only to see it looming in the distance on the other side of the village, "Besides, I think I threw it off my trail."

"You lost it? How?" Rig asks.

"I'm not sure. Frankly, I'm just glad I'm not a part of the squashed rubble back there," Spirit replies.

Rig snaps to attention and darts his eyes around in thought, "It came here because it was attracted to the bad stuff, right? Like the other Grimm were?"

Spirit raises his eyebrows, "Wait, but that means there's more negative emotion here now than before."

"So you think it's coming here to roost?" Kanoa butts in, "I mean that'd explain why it's not coming after us right now. It probably can't sense our feelings from the reactions over all the other crazy stuff that happened today."

"Grimmology aside," Spirit grits his teeth, "We have to take it out before the other Grimm return or else Vivica will be looking a lot like that old city we found."

"Yeah, but there's something more important at the moment!" Kanoa yells and starts running off towards the middle of the street.

She arrives right in front of her house, the roof of which had just begun to catch fire from a neighboring abode.

Rig comes up next to her and asks, "You think we can put the fire out?"

Kanoa shakes her head, "We don't have time. Plus it's too late to destroy the other buildings around it to stop the fire from spreading."

"We can still try, I mean it's your-"

"No," she states with a note of pain in her voice, "Let's just grab what we can and get back in the fight."

Rig nods and the two of them rush through the front door, knocking it clean off its hinges. Inside the house, the two each go a separate direction past the living room. Kanoa stops to look at a drawer chock-full of family photos and heirlooms before shaking her head and snapping her attention to the workshop at the end of the hall.

A few rooms back, Rig checks Kanoa's grandfather's room, but before he can get to the filing cabinets, a blinding cloud of blistering smoke pushes him out of the room. He yelps and turns to drop by the back room for his scavenged backpack before rushing back outside.

He narrowly avoids bumping into Spirit, who was toying intently with his hookshots.

"Where's Kanoa?" Spirit asks, his voice low, "What's taking her so long?"

Rig responds with a worried expression before they hear a crash. Kanoa bursts through a burning wall with the knockoff Atlesian turret on her shoulders. After Spirit sighs in relief, the unsure look returns onto his face.

"That thing actually works?"

"Yep," she says, in between a strained grunt as she's setting it down on the dirt, "Almost as good as the real deal, I bet."

"So how do we use it?"

Kanoa visibly flinches. Rig runs up to it and pops the top open.

"Like this!" he yells, shoving handfuls of Slack Dust in until his pockets are empty.

Kanoa frowns, "I'm still worried that it might not be able to do anything against something that big- and angry, but it's our best shot."

"You know what- we can figure it out," Spirit says, putting on as much of an encouraging smile as he can.

"I believe in us!" Rig smiles.

"We all should," Kanoa replies, "So does anyone have a plan?"

"So I was thinking," Spirit starts as he stares up at the Behemoth in the distance, "You know how I was running distraction? Maybe we can use the turret instead."

"We only have one, you know," Kanoa says, raising an eyebrow.

"And there's only one of me," Spirit reasons.

"Fair point," she nods.

"I wish there were two of me!" Rig butts in.

Spirit rolls his eyes, " _Zero_ of you would be better."

A laugh infects the trio for a while, but they're sobered by the sound of collapsing walls nearby. They turn to see Kanoa's roof caving in, fire patting it into shreds like an overly eager child on a sandcastle.

"Kanoa," Rig looks down, "I'm sorry."

"We'll make it pay. Right here, right now," Kanoa says, clenching her fists. She faces Spirit with newfound confidence, "What do we do after the turret's set up?"

Spirit points at the Behemoth, "See that crack on its skull? If Rig can get one of his power strikes on it, he'll split that thing's head like a walnut," He looks at his partner, "Think you can pull it off?"

"I think I only got one left in me, so I'll make it the best one yet!" Rig fist pumps and pulls out the radio receiver from his backpack, which he then drops, "Let's go, Operation Brain Pain!"

Spirit raises an eyebrow, "Do Grimm even have brains?"

"Have you ever seen a headless Grimm?" Kanoa asks back, taking the receiver off of Rig.

"Nope," Rig grins, "But none have seen me back!"

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

The Behemoth looms over Vivica, its massive shadow blotting out piles of burning rubble beneath it. Its eyes glow a deeper shade of crimson as the ethereal screams and cries of humans echo in the air. Streams of dark violet energy waft throughout the desolate streets, mesmerizing the beast into a trance-like state. It lifts its head, feeling the negativity flow into the crack in its skull, which begins gradually repairing the injury it received a few nights prior.

 _Whirrr…_

The faint sound makes the Grimm snap back to attention. It turns to the noise just as a projectile whizzes straight for its face, combusting into a small ball of flame against its left eye. A second projectile repeats the process as the Behemoth flinches and growls. It charges towards the source of the flying Slack Dust, unaffected by the small annoyances still being fired.

Kanoa skirts down a side street, making sure to stay out of the line of sight between the turret and the Behemoth on the way back towards Rig and Spirit. As she runs through the sandy paths, childhood memories of the same exact roads flicker in, overlapping the now-smouldering ruins that bellow death from their crackling thresholds. Vivid images of idyllic, warm days and innocent wandering burn up and reform as more and more of the homes she can list by heart cave into ashy ruin.

Kanoa shakes her head just as the dresser with all her family mementos returns to mind. Eyes suddenly glowing up the dim air like spotlights, the Behemoth turns its attention towards her, as if immediately sensing the disarray in her emotions.

"HYAHHH!"

Rig brings down his axe and closes his eyes from airborne debris just as the beast flicks its head to track a new prey. He could feel his weapon cleanly slice through something solid.

Opening his eyes again, Rig sees a massive, soot-stained antler comes crashing into his stomach.

The impact shocks him short of being able to recover forwards with a gravity rush and he falls backwards. Barely clinging on to consciousness, a pair of strong arms comes rushing under him, cushioning his impact.

"This seems... familiar," Rig mumbles, turning to see Kanoa carrying him bridal style.

"Rig!" Spirit comes rushing in from nearby, "What happened?! Did you get him?!"

"No…" Rig murmurs, "I got one of his antlers, though."

They watch as the Behemoth roars, continuing its charge towards the turret again. This time, it succeeds, smashing one of the few dwellings left standing in the village.

Spirit looks down at Rig, "Can you use your Semblance one more time?"

"Iunno," he answers, trailing off.

Kanoa squeezes and then shakes him, which prompts a little more lively of a reaction.

"Or die trying," Rig smiles, enunciating the syllables woosily.

"Good. Let's switch out then."

"Switch out?" Spirit's eyes widen, "Don't tell me you're going on top of that thing?!"

"I am. With you two completely wrecked, it's our only and last chance."

Kanoa sets Rig straight on the ground and he holds out his arms. She then leaps onto his shoulders, sending him wobbling as he scrambles to grab onto her legs.

"Heavy," Rig mumbles as he crouches into takeoff position.

"Wait!" Spirit stretches his arms out, "You're going to get yourself killed over there! Think of all the things that can possibly go wrong! What happens if-?!"

"Spirit," Kanoa looks at him, a mixture of exhausted hurt and burning confidence manifesting in her eyes, "Trust me."

For a few seconds, Spirit silently remembers the doubtful and terrified expressions on his parents' faces before he left them. He remembers his last two teammates, their last words, their last stands.

A chill goes down his spine as he clenches his jaw.

"Don't you dare die, Kanoa."

She nods, looking down at Rig as she whoops.

"Ready?"

Barely giving her time to inhale, a sudden force propels the two of them diagonally towards the Behemoth. They climb and climb and climb until she feels Rig's hold on her calves loosen and then lapse. In his haze, Rig had angled the jump a lot lower than expected, and after a few seconds, Kanoa realizes they're sailing towards the Grimm's lower back. With a heave, she manages to push off from Rig, sending him flying back to safety as she sails onto the Behemoth, grabbing onto one of its giant protruding back vertebrae.

As Spirit catches Rig just a storey off the ground with a platform, Kanoa flips upwards off of her bony handhold and lands with her spike-ball mace withdrawn. The Behemoth seems to notice her presence on its back and shadowy tendrils begin to strike at her. Clambering to dodge, Kanoa manages to roll forward in between swings to bat away the attacks. She weaves in between the spines on the monster's back to leave the tendrils tied up in her wake and then makes a running leap to land on the tip of one of its vertebra. Kanoa proceeds forward, hopping from one gargantuan bone to another, increasing speed as she works her way up the last segment of its back.

Culminating with a full-force leap from the last segment, the beast manages to turn its head just enough during her airtime for the objective to come into view:

The rapidly sealing crack running directly down the Behemoth's skull hides a small red glow from within, which grows larger and larger as Kanoa narrows her focus to it and nothing else as her flying form closes the gap.

The spiky tip of the mace traces itself with speed mirages like echoes of motion as Kanoa raises it up and then brings it thundering down with a sparky crackle below her. Her weapon chips off chunks of skull as it buries into the crack, plunging into the red core hidden within. A pained roar shakes the very air around her as the mace's tip starts loosening from the inside of the Behemoth's head. All around her, its face starts to disintegrate away into black dust and she slips downwards.

After plummeting through a cloud of smoke during her fall, Kanoa gets a brief glimpse of her village. Under the last breath of a blazing artificial sunrise, a lot of charred squares is exposed in its ruined entirety. After landing into a roll to soften the impact, she reorients and starts looking for Rig and Spirit, amid a thick snowfall of black flakes. Kanoa comes across both of their limp bodies snoring on the ground in victory poses.

She sighs to herself, smiling up at the cracked moon as the lights start dying around her.

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

Shadows of different sizes traverse the smoky remnants of Vivica. Some cough, covering their soot-covered lips. Others sniffle as the pungent odor of ash and Grimm clogs their nostrils. All of them, however, shed at least a tear as they walk through the blackened shell of what was once their home. In front of them stand Kanoa, Rig, and Spirit, all battered and bruised.

"You…" the Elder trails off as he pushes his way through the crowd, "You destroyed our village! There's nothing left here!"

"Don't change the subject," Kanoa glares at him, "You said Rig and Spirit were liars. You didn't trust them or me when they came all the way back here to warn us about the attack. They saved our lives and you know it."

"Liars!" the Elder points a shaky finger at them, "You went so far as to destroy this village to fool us! All for your petty grudges!"

"You... couldn't have missed the bodies," Kanoa maintains the sternness in her voice, "With wounds that only Grimm would have the savagery to inflict."

"She's right," one of the male villagers says, face pale as he returns to the group. "There's bandits littered all over the streets. It's a massacre."

Rig walks off covering his ears as soon as he hears the status report. While a few of the older Vivicans wander off for more evidence, most stick to their pack, keeping the curious children hidden in the center.

"I… You..." the Elder stumbles with his words, eyes wildly darting around the desolate landscape, "You led them here then! All of you!"

"Shut it. I'm getting real sick and tired of your excuses," Spirit says just as Rig returns with his backpack, "How about you cut the crap, old man?"

"What did you just say-?!"

The Elder is cut off by the sight of Rig handing a manila folder out of his backpack to Kanoa. As the Elder runs towards them, Rig points his shotgun towards him. The Elder stumbles back, falling onto his rear.

"Don't move," Rig states, emotionless.

"What is this?" Kanoa asks.

"It's your family's file," Spirit answers, "Everyone who's ever been a part of this village has one. It includes everything. Names of the living, dead, and _evicted_."

Rig's eyes widen, "The files-!"

"Are behind Kanoa's house. The cabinet was that important thing I saved while you were fighting tuning fork guy," Spirit says, "Pass me your shotgun Rig. I think you're better suited to drag the cabinet all the way over here."

After handing Spirit his weapon, Rig runs off. Spirit braces his aim as the Elder shifts uncomfortably on the ground.

"I said, don't move!" Spirit yells.

A few of the villagers slightly back away. Kanoa presses her fingers tightly against her folder.

"Spirit. That cabinet you're talking about… that wasn't in my grandfather's room, was it?"

Spirit's eyes remain on the Elder. Kanoa's eyes water.

"Why?" she asks in a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Spirit replies in a low voice, "We suspected one of our friends lived here. It was the only way we could have confirmed it."

Rig drags the filing cabinet up besides Spirit, then drops it, letting the files spill out onto the ground.

"Come on, everyone," Spirit encourages, "Go ahead and find yours."

All the Vivicans past their middle ages stand still with worried and guilty expressions, as the younger ones step forward. The Elder grabs at a few of their legs before being shaken off.

"No!" The Elder begs as he tries to pull them back, "They're tricking you! Don't fall for their lies!"

As the younger villagers begin to sort through the folders and read them, horrified expressions dawn on their faces. The older villagers begin to cry at the sight.

Rig and Spirit walk up to either side of Kanoa. While Rig places a hand on Kanoa's shoulder, Spirit motions for her to open the file. Her fingers work their way around before flipping the top open.

* * *

 _ **xxxx**_

 _Haheo Household  
STATUS: __**PRESENT**_

 _ **xxxx**_ _  
M. Kahikilani Haheo  
Traits: Horns_

 _STATUS:_ _ **SUPPRESSED**_

 _ **xxxx**_

 _M. Juichiro Takagi  
Traits: None_

 _STATUS:_ _SUPPRESSED EVICTED_ _ **DECEASED**_

 _ **xxxx**_

 _F. Lokilani Haheo_

 _Traits: Tail_

 _STATUS:_ _SUPPRESSED EVICTED_ _ **DECEASED**_

 _ **xxxx**_

 _F. Kanoa Haheo_

 _Traits: Horns  
STATUS: __**SUPPRESSED**_

 _ **xxxx**_

 _M. Eikichi Haheo_

 _Traits: Horns, Tail, Cow Spots, Hooves_

 _STATUS:_ _ **DECEASED**_

 _ **xxxx**_

* * *

"What?" Kanoa shakes her head, "No. No, that's not-"

"They took your horns!" Rig gasps.

She raises a shaky hand to her head and reaches through her hair, feeling for the thin scar running across the crown of her scalp.

"Grandpa told me I hit my head when I was little…"

"He lied," Spirit says, "This is Vivica's unquestioned tradition. Faunus suppression. Every single one of you standing here today either got suppressed or lucky enough. And those that didn't… well, you see the big, black 'evicted,' right?"

Kanoa falls to her knees, hands covering her mouth as she doubles over. The tears that built up in her eyes from earlier pour down her face. Rig kneels down beside her, giving her a hug.

"THIS IS A FABRICATION!" The Elder's face turns dark red as he shoots up to his feet. He wildly spins between the trio and the rest of the villagers, "THEY LIE! JUST LIKE THEY HAVE FOR GENERATIONS! THEY LIE TO DESTROY US! THE HUMANS, THEY-!"

The sobs quell for just a moment as pure shock reverbs around the crowd. In one second, all the color drains from the Elder's face.

"The- humans?" Spirit asks, cocking his head.

"The humans," the farmer steps forward from the crowd, "From the Great War almost eighty years ago. We're all the descendants of the Faunus that fled from the old Vivica. The burnt city you witnessed at the tower we sabotaged."

"And why sabotage the tower?" Spirit leads on.

"You already know why. To keep us in control, naturally," the farmer says, "All contact outside new Vivica was prohibited for this exact reason. Those that survived the War had their traits suppressed to ensure that Vivica would be easily mistaken as a human village. It was our only way to survive the harsh reality of a world that saw Faunus akin to monsters. And as such, it manifested into tradition. Only the aged and those who have had children are aware of this truth."

"Was my…" Kanoa hiccups, "Was my grandfather one of the people who suppressed us?"

"I'm sorry," The farmer's face softens, "He was the Elder, after all. But he cared. He wished for the best for Vivica, but we all believed this was the only way for Vivica to survive. Perhaps he left those files in his study for you to discover them. And for you to decide for Vivica."

Kanoa stares blankly at the ground.

"Besides," the farmer continues, "as the new Elder, it _is_ your job."

"What?" Kanoa whispers.

"What?!" The Elder shouts.

"Old blood stales too quickly of its sympathy," the farmer reasons, motioning to Kanoa, "There could be no one better."

"No!" The Elder screams, "You traitor! Have you forgotten everything I've done for Vivica?! You've doomed us all! You-!"

Spirit moves Rig's shotgun closer to the Elder's face, silencing and sitting him back down.

"I don't expect for you to forgive us," the farmer says, "In fact, your grandfather and I both would be disappointed in you if you did. But I trust you to take us in a better direction."

"And with that being said," Spirit interrupts, staring down at the Elder, "I think it's time for you to make a decision now, Kanoa."

The Elder panickedly looks behind him, searching for his councilmen, all of which had disappeared during the earlier commotion about the files. Spirit cocks Rig's shotgun, causing the Elder to slowly turn back around.

"What do you want to do with him, Kanoa?" Spirit asks.

"My first and last act as Elder," Kanoa says, towering over the Elder and pointing to the forest, and then commands, "Walk."

The Elder stares at her momentarily before whimpering, "W-walk?"

" _Evicted_. _Behavior deemed irredeemable by Elder Haheo_ ," Kanoa states.

"Look at their faces," Spirit adds, "Look, and then try telling me this little charade of yours isn't in shambles."

The Elder gives one last look to the villagers. Instead of sympathy, their faces express open hostility. Without a further word, he grits his teeth at Kanoa and books it into the forest. A few seconds of silence later, the farmer clears his throat.

"Elder- no, Kanoa," he begins, "If I'm not mistaken, you said that was your first and last act as Elder?"

"It is. I think I know what I want to do with myself," she smiles at Rig and Spirit, "And what I'm looking for is outside this village."

"But what about us? What about-?" the farmer goes sullen.

"Vivica's gone. Our past is behind us. We should all begin again, and that includes me."

"I figured you would say that. Am I to assume you're to pass down the mantle?"

"Yep, you should do it."

"Me? Is that truly just?"

"Well, you're the only who bothered telling the truth from that super secret club of yours, so I think Vivica would at least be in honest hands."

"In that case, I graciously accept," the farmer's fluffy eyebrows part, revealing pea-sized watering eyes, "You're free to live a life of your own now, so don't let mistakes from the past rob you of any more of it."

With a nod of her head, happy tears sparkle in Kanoa's eyes, the light of a freshly minted sunrise refracting in from the distance. The farmer turns to Rig and Spirit.

"Travellers, you have Vivica's sincerest gratitude. Normally, we would honor you both in the form of a feast, but…" the new Elder takes a glance around, "I'm afraid that'd have to wait until we find a new home."

Rig steps up, "Well, we're heading to Anchor next. It's half a day away, so maybe you guys can head there?"

"Do you believe they'll accept us?" the farmer asks, "We'd surely be a burden."

"After what we've been through, I'm sure they will," Kanoa intervenes, then gives a look towards Rig and Spirit, "The world's probably a kinder place than our ancestors thought it was."

"Kanoa's right," Rig beams, "There's a lot of good people out there, trying their best!"

"Laws have been set up to protect the Faunus from discrimination, too," Spirit adds, "Worst comes to worst, you guys can always find another place to stay with the help of Hunters and Huntresses."

"Yeah like- whatcha call it-?" Rig scratches the back of his head as he wears a goofy smile, "Topiary- uh, wait no- Sanctuary- uh-"

"Menagerie," Spirit says with a sigh.

"Knew it! You passed the test!"

"Right, _anyways_ ," Spirit coughs, "From what it says on the map," he says, pulling the old piece of parchment out, "Anchor looks big enough to keep you guys for a few days while we clean up this area before it becomes another Grimm nest. Then, maybe you can take a passage to Menagerie."

Many of the villagers exchange worried glances.

"It's not easy to abandon our home for a place we just learned of. But," the farmer scratches his beard as he turns to the Vivicans, "Considering the bad memories and the fact that there's nothing left for us here, I figure we'll put our trust in you travellers once more."

The villagers remain silent as Spirit speaks.

"One of us will have to escort you there. It'd be the least we can do to assuage your fears."

"I'll do it," Kanoa offers.

"No. I should do it," Rig interjects, "You wouldn't have the range my Semblance and axe do, and Spirit doesn't have his weapons."

Kanoa's lips twist up before she briefly nods, smiling towards Rig, "Ok, I can trust you on this."

"Then it's settled. We will head out after sifting through the remains of Vivica a little while longer," the farmer slightly bows his head, "I'm sorry there isn't much we can offer you all in turn. Feel free to rest up while we're away."

Rig turns to the new Elder with a serious-yet-nervous expression, "Actually, there is _one thing_ you could do for me before we go..."

"Anything within our power," the farmer nods.

Rig's mouth twists into a pursed-lip, U-shaped smile, " _Can I touch your eyebrows?_ "

A brief silence befalls the entire group.

"I- suppose so?" the farmer replies, clearing his throat.

"Whoopee!" Rig cheers and runs up to the old man.

He crouches forward a bit and reaches a single finger out, as if apprehensive to the touch. It draws closer, and closer, and then finally brushes up against the luscious grey hairs. His whole hand cautiously moves to ruffle them.

" _OH MY GOSH, THEY'RE LIKE CARPETS!_ " Rig whisper-screams, his eyes sparkling as Spirit looks on with jealousy.

"Ahem," the farmer says clearing his throat.

"Sir, yes sir!" Rig pulls his hands back, straightening out in surprise as if struck by lightning.

The village and their guests share a laugh as dawn finally settles in, its warming light capturing everyone's smiles for just a moment.

 **-XX** **・** **XX-**

"And now, to announce the results for today's second round of Beacon Academy Initiation," Ozpin continues as the previous team's voices fade into the distance, "Righam Rustbridge. Nima Amareina. Spirit Asul. And Flora Mandeville."

The four young warriors walk up to the stage as they hear their names called. Their faces shift into place on the two large holographic monitors in the crowded, dark auditorium.

"You four obtained this round's white pawns. From this day forward, you will work together as... Team SFRN. Lead by… Spirit Asul."

Applause erupts from the crowd as Spirit beams. Righam pats him on the back.

"You deserve it!" Righam congratulates, "You really saved me back there with your hookshots!"

"Heh, it was only natural," Spirit says, flexing a malnourished bicep clearly within the line of sight of their two female teammates, "Just make sure you guys can keep up!"

A wave of chuckles and chortles rolls out from the crowd.

"Anyways," Ozpin coughs, "the next team, with the black pawns is as follows-"

His voice muddles into the distance as the newly minted team walks around the corner into the secluded backstage hall. Nima steps in front of the group.

"It'll be a pleasure working with you guys again," she says with a warm, if slightly sarcastic smile.

Flora nods along, blushing shyly, "Y-yeah! I'm sure we'll get along!"

"And we'll kick a lot more Grimm butt too!" Rig cheers, "Just like those Ursa back in the forest!"

"Well, that's the plan," Nima nods. She turns to Spirit, "we'll be counting on you,leader."

Spirit stares at her outstretched hand. With a look of joyous confidence, he shakes it.

"You can bet on it!"

 **-XX [Volume 1 - End] XX-**

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

Updated Author's Note: Due to circumstances surrounding my health, having to do with my hands, it's advised for me to refrain from rigorous typing and the like. Until I fully recover I will have to put a pause on writing in general. With that in mind I guess I feel a little silly for over-promising for Volume 2, but no matter. I apologize to those invested in the story, but as much as it pains me health takes priority. I hope you all find other stories to read and tell, and have a pleasant day.

Old Note:

Welcome to the end of Volume 1 of _**Saffron Trails**_ and thanks for reading so far! It's been a blast working on this story, and the journey I'm taking to even make this possible is quite a tale unto itself, but that's besides the point. I'm here to say that Volume 2 will be coming hot on the heels of Chapter 8, so I humbly hope you're as eager to see what happens next as I am to write it! The next Volume will be significantly larger in scope and complexity as the story continues developing into the direction I intended.

Seeing as how I'm about to embark on the second leg of this journey, at this junction (perhaps more than any other) reviews, criticism, and comments would be most appreciated. Writing an entirely original set of characters and settings was an intentional choice; I hope that the quality of writing, rather than the brand-recognition of canon elements, will emotionally invest my readers. As such, having reception for my work, whether positive or negative, would mean the world to me, especially from those of you who have come this far.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerely yours,

 **Sitend**


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